


The thing that should not be

by satiah81



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Breathplay, Dark Thorin, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Thorin, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Master/Slave, Non-Consensual, Possessive Thorin, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Protective Thorin, Punishment, Rape Recovery, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Smut, Some Fluff, Stockholm Syndrome, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, seductive Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-31 20:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 37
Words: 74,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satiah81/pseuds/satiah81
Summary: I`d never liked my life in the bustling city, superficial, gray and lonely, as it was. Yet what I found in the new world was far beyond words. Dark and passionate. Cruel and scary. What Thorin taught me about his reality I would remember forever.WARNINGS! If you are not comfortable with rape/sexual slavery/angst topics, then this story is not for you. It is a dark and intense fantasy.WORK COMPLETED.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native tongue, so please excuse any mistakes :)  
> Thanks to Katalin for her help as my beta.

The water was deep and cold, black as the darkest night. It froze my senses, intoxicating me with sharp pain, biting in my limbs. I tried to scream but was silenced by the pressure and ice-cold fear that crept in my heart. I was being dragged further down to the depths. I kicked and managed to get rid of the handbag on my shoulder and moved closer to the surface in desperate need of oxygen.

Then I sensed subtle change in the atmosphere as a ray of pale light emanatied from far below. It was there for a split second and all went back to normal. I finally emerged on the surface and took in my first breath, gasping.

The lake was large and its waters dark, on one edge covered with thick mist of early autumn. I swam to the nearest bank and totally exhausted spread on the grass. It was early morning and I could sense bright sun hidden behind the white wall of clouds.

Where was the yacht gone? I blinked in surprise and searched the water for any sign of movement, familiar object, or any sound. The silence was deafening.

When I came to my senses, I decided to search the bank systematically. If the yacht sank, there must be some wreckage left, broken pieces of wood or… bodies. The storm had come out of nowhere, I remembered blinding lightning and scared faces. Then all went wet and cold and I was fighting for breath suddenly.

Nothing. I inhaled deeply. Perhaps they have left without me.

I remembered there was a river flowing into the lake. I followed its stream in the direction from which I remembered our yacht had sailed. After half-an-hour walk I finally realized they could not have possibly sailed away so fast.

Something was very wrong here. The trees looked unfamiliar. The landscape felt different but I could not put my finger on why. Fear and distant, hazy thought that something strange and perhaps unnatural had happened crept at the back of my mind.

I sat down by a tree and thought for an hour, waiting. Then I returned to the lake and roamed its surroundings for the rest of the morning. I ate some berries and drank a few sips of water from the lake which I had already started to hate. I waited. They must come back for me with a rescue party and dogs, that's how it's normally done, right?

As the night drew near, hunger squeezed my stomach even more and I ate all the berries I could possibly find. That will have to do for tonight. Tomorrow I would eat properly.

With sunken heart I found a hidden place among bushes and trees, shielded but still with good view of the lake. The ground was covered with dry moss, its smell reassuring. I laid my head on it and started to cry.

Of course I could not sleep. My white party dress was still uncomfortably wet but I dared not take it off. What if they come for me? I can't afford to lose time dressing up. But the night was surprisingly warm and except for some night creatures` noises in the distance nothing stirred it. I slept for about three hours.

 

xxx

 

When I woke up in the morning, it was crystal-clear that no one would come to take me home.

I threw away my only high-heeled shoe and barefoot set off for a journey to nowhere.

I followed the river down its flow. There are always towns and villages nearby, that's how we were taught at school. Remember? No matter what, always follow the water. By the position of the sun I roughly estimated I was heading south. The country slightly changed, now I was walking in vast lowlands covered with dry grass and scattered rocks. Still no sign of civilization. I did not remember this land. I was getting terribly hungry and my bare feet hurt. I desperately yearned to return to the bustling city I had hated all my life, with all its concrete, steel and glass and crowds of nameless faces; the chaotic traffic and the ever-present smog and noise. Even the job in a telecommunications company. Fuck them and their forced team-buildings! Fuck their yacht!

But there was only the silence and forces of nature. I was alone, unarmed, with no supplies, tottering on by the sheer power of will. I was very tired. If I died here perhaps I would not lose that much. No one would miss me.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day started in the same way, with no changes in the landscape, no sign of a town whatsoever, not even a road! I slept very little last night and was even more hungry, my feet now bloodied with little wounds and scratches. Exhausted, I lay down in the shade of a large rock and drifted in a dreamless sleep. It was late morning.

And then something stirred at the back of my mind. Wake up, something is wrong!

I blinked and shielded my eyes, half-blinded by the sun. Sleepily I sat up to see something that made my eyes widen in shock.

I saw a group of the strangest creatures, not more than five, foul and hideous, approaching me at great speed. Dressed in animal skins and coarse metal plates, armed with primitive - but still! - metal hooks and maces, their faces not at all human. I could smell their sharp odour even from where I was sitting.

Am I dreaming?

I stood up clumsily, prepared to run, but the fastest one was already there and grabbed me by my arm fiercely. I screamed and cried out: “Stop it! What do you want from me?!” But he did not seem to understand. I kicked him and fought desperately  but it only made them all laugh. He asked his fellows something in a sharp, coarse tongue and seemed to be satisfied with their answer. Suddenly he yanked me by my hair and made me fall on my knees. I cried out in pain. He unsheathed his primitive sword and pressed its tip to my throat. I felt it pierce my skin to drive a few drops of blood. Then the blade moved down to the neckline of my dress, agonizingly slowly. He held it with one hand and with the other one all of a sudden cut the thin cloth in one long, swift movement. I stared down at my nakedness in shock. A thin red scratch was crossing my stomach. I stood up and attacked him with all my remaining strength, kicking and biting where I managed to reach. They just laughed. Then I felt sharp pain on my left thigh and collapsed to the ground. This time he cut me very deep. I could not run away now.

Then he removed my panties and sank down on me with his full weight. He stank of fish and his rotten teeth made my stomach rise in disgust. With one strong movement he entered me and I cried out in sharp pain, tears of desperation filling my eyes.

Then something happened.

Out of nowhere a man sprang out, armed with a large silvery sword, and with battlecry on his lips sank the sword into my enemy's throat. Its tip stopped a few centimetres above mine. His blood splashed on my face and started to pour down on my chest wildly. Wide-eyed, he struggled to get off me and in that attempt smashed me in the head. All went blank for a split second and then I saw the silver blade once again and the creature's head flew away. The body collapsed on me, its weight holding me down once again.

The man shouted something towards me, something I could hardly understand, and turned to the others.

What happened next came like a strange end to a nightmare. I saw him move around swiftly, cutting off arms and piercing bodies. He occasionally cried out in effort but seemed to be a skilled warrior. The creatures were a little match to him. His blue cloak lined with fur moved around swiftly along with his dark long hair.

When the last enemy fell, he stood still and panting turned around to take in the situation - he searched the corpses around him and surroundings for any sign of movement.

Finally his gaze stopped on me, lying helpless on the ground.

He walked towards me, his right hand still holding the sword, prepared for anything, his face expressionless. He grabbed the corpse's arm and seemingly effortlessly rolled it over and away from me.

I stared down at me in shock. The only piece of garment to cover my nakedness was my once-white luxury bra, now covered with crimson blood. My decollete and belly were all sticky with the red liquid, out of which a few streams found their way down to my bare thighs and womanhood.

I made a frail attempt to cover myself and keep whatever dignity remained.

His steady gaze moved slowly across my body, from the bruises on my face, down to my belly and lingered on my shaking hands which tried to cover my secret places.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead turned his head away. From behind the rocks the wind brought in men`s shouts and sounds of hooves on the rocky ground.

He shouted in that direction in strong, commanding voice: “Stay where you are, all of you! Don't come here until I summon you!” It sounded like a mixture of old Norse and English, difficult to comprehend, yet still I understood.

And with that he kneeled beside me and asked matter-of-factly: “Are you hurt anywhere else?” and gestured towards the deep cut on my thigh.

“I… don't know.” I whispered and looked around, disorientation and shock taking their grasp of me now that it was over.

He took off his cloak and without a single word wrapped me in it, fastening it on my right shoulder with a buckle. My right hand was free but the left one stayed hidden under the cloth. He rolled the cloak up to reveal my thigh which was bleeding heavily. He examined the wound, his face that of perfect calmness, its expression impenetrable, his blue eyes ice-cold lakes. It felt very right though, under these circumstances.

He reached for my party dress which lay cut in two beside me and before pressing it to my wound, studied it briefly. I hissed in pain.

“Who are you?” he shot.

“I got lost…” I whispered out of my breath.

“Where is your village? Who do you travel with?”

“My village?” I blinked. “There is no village, we came yachting on the lake but then the storm came and I'm alone here now… I don't know what happened… How I got here… Why do you all carry swords? Where am I now?” I asked puzzled.

“Out of the lake…” he spoke for himself and then his face hardened.

“Dwalin! All, you may come!” he shouted towards the rock that shielded us.

There came hurried steps and surprised cries before I could actually see my saviour`s companions. What strange beings they were, short of stature, with ridiculous hair and beards and clad in the oddest garments which could only be seen in living history spectacles. They surrounded us and one of them, a grey-haired one, kneeled beside me in surprise while the others left to search the vicinity for any signs of other enemies. He raced off behind the rock only to reappear with a skin filled with transparent liquid that he poured on my wound. I hissed and a few tears escaped my eyes. I wiped them away with my one free hand. Then he forced a few tablespoons down my throat. He then bound my leg tightly with my dress to which appearance he paid no attention whatsoever.

“I cannot do more here, the wound needs proper sewing. She is losing blood.” He turned towards my saviour as if to ask for his approval.

The latter, while my wound was being tended to, wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. Now he was sitting a few metres away from us on a dead tree trunk, deep in thoughts, his eyes studying me. Now and then they turned towards the direction from which I had come.

He nodded slowly. There was certain gracefulness to it.

“Do not fear lass, you will be safe and sound with us,” smiled the grey-haired one to me as he tried to comfort me.

Their leader, for he surely was one, stood up and asked simply:

“Can you walk?”

Frowning, I struggled to my feet and made one weak step. But my sore feet betrayed me, and I would have fallen to the ground, had the grey-haired one not caught me. I clenched my teeth.

Their leader walked towards me and without a warning lifted me in the air.

“Put your arm around my neck,” he commanded. I did so and he carried me quite some distance towards their horses hidden behind the rocks.

As soon as we reached them, he put me down. I immediately grabbed the nearest saddle to steady myself. The animal, tall and graceful, glanced back at me in curiosity. How on earth am I supposed to ride a creature like that?

My saviour reached for a bag hanging from the side of the horse and produced a skin bottle. He handed it over to me without a word. It was wine, strong and sweet. I drank a few sips and wanted to return it to him, but he shook his head in disapproval. I drank some more until he finally looked satisfied. God, I will get drunk within minutes if they continue forcing to me their mixed alcohol! Considering that I have eaten nearly nothing in the past three days. I passed the bottle to him and he tucked it back into the side bag. Then he placed his hands on my hips and lifted me up into the saddle, both of my legs to one side. Then he swiftly mounted the horse himself.

I have never really ridden a horse and suddenly I found myself sitting on one. The height felt immense. I grabbed the horn with my right hand, the left one still covered by the cloak, and found it nearly impossible to hold stable in this position. The saddle was not a women`s one. As he positioned himself behind me, the horse moved slightly to the left and I gasped, trying desperately not to fall on my face. He placed both his hands in front and behind me and moved closer to reach for the reins. At that his long hair touched my face and I did my best not to look up at him and stay from his body as far as possible. We set off and my knuckles whitened with effort.

“You will fall if you avoid me,” he said under his breath and pulled me to him so that I was leaning on his chest now. I stiffened for a while, but indeed it was much easier for me to maintain balance like this.

We rode in silence for a good while, forming a fine line, the other three fellows before and after us. I could hear the horses` snorts and sound of hooves against the ground. The air was fresh and mild breeze started to blow. I risked a quick glance at him. He did not seem to notice.

His ice-blue gaze remained fixed on the horizon, distant and impenetrable, his features regular, his bearded jaw determined. He wore leather armour, encrusted with delicate plates of metal where I could see and feel, and under it dark blue chemise. His long hair cascaded down from his shoulders in waves, as a dark mane shielding a lion. It occasionally touched me as he moved his head. I cautiously took in his scent; it reminded me of old leather and spices, deeply masculine.

“Did he rape you?” he shot into the silence all of a sudden.

“What?!” I froze, hoping I had overheard. My face blushed blood-red in a second.

“Did the scum manage to rape you?” he whispered nearly inaudibly, just for my ears to hear. He looked down at me for a moment and continued to stare in front of him.

“You can`t ask me such things... ” I breathed, my voice shaking. Tears filled my eyes and all of a sudden I started to tremble as flashbacks of that day reappeared in front of my eyes. I still felt the sharp pain between my legs, the one single goddamn thrust I would remember all my life. I felt filthy and deceived.

He looked down at me again.

“I have saved you, of course I have the right to know,” he informed me, pausing for a while. “Your secret is safe with me though. They do not know, and will not guess,” he gestured towards his fellow riders. “You have long enough to decide how much you tell the healer by the time we return to the camp.”

He reached back for the side bag again and passed me the wine. I drank a few sips, unwillingly.

“More!” he commanded and pressed it to my lips again.

“Do you want me to get drunk?!” I protested weakly, pushing the bottle away.

“Aye,” was his simple and honest answer.

I drank some more and returned the bottle to him, nearly apologetically. “I don't like alcohol.”

“Then you have not tasted any good vintage wine. We store some special sorts in our cellars. And mead and strong beer,” he changed the subject.

But the damage was done, I already started to shake uncontrollably, shock of past events taking over what was left of my self-control. I cried bitterly, the wine surely helping my emotions to flow freely.

He made no attempt to hush me. We rode in uttermost silence for an eternity, I lost in my grief and he in his thoughts… perhaps. But the horse strode at regular pace and I cried long enough to exhaust myself.

“What is your name?” he interrogated finally.

“Kate Evans.”

“Kate Evans, where have you come from?”

“Rather tell me where we are now.” 

“Certainly in eastern Rhovanion, by the Running River.”

I shook my head in disbelief. None of this made sense.

“This must be some nightmare.”

“It is what you make of it.”

And that was it. I was too tired to think any further, so I just asked:

“What was your name again?”

“Thorin.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

I spent the rest of the journey half-awake, not really caring where they were taking me. But when I saw the red tents of a war camp in the distance, I was alert immediately. Right in front of us sprang out from the depths of the earth hundreds of tents, of natural and red colours, with banners and flags proudly erected, floating in the breeze. And war carriages, horses and rams, and soldiers, countless heads clad in heavy armour, very short, dwarf-like. They carried numerous kinds of weapons - mostly axes and spears - some practising their art of war, some sitting and eating, some resting on the grass doing nothing. But they all greeted us as our small company entered their lines, bowing their heads in salutation.

We stopped in front of the largest tent right in the centre of the camp. It was decorated with intricate patterns with symbolic meaning, as I guessed, and a pair of guards stood in front of its entrance. But what guards they were! Very tall, slender in their golden armour, with pointed ears and skin pale as if they had never seen the sun.

Thorin dismounted the horse, and to my astonishment, one of the guards reached out and carried me into the tent without being told to. His skin had a strange, opalesque tone to it, his features delicate as if carved from the rarest marble, adding to the unearthly ambiance around him. As he moved, he seemed to dance in the air with me in his arms.

The tent`s furnishing was very simple, with a few chairs, a large table with maps spread all over it, a massive wooden chest and a portable bed to the side of it. Effortlessly the guard carried me to the bed and laid me down on the furs. He bowed elegantly and returned to his post at the entrance. I heard Thorin order someone to bring in the healer and prepare some warm water and clean clothes. Then all went silent and I was left alone. I breathed out and sank into the furs. They felt unbelievably comfortable after the three days out in the wild!

Shortly thereafter I heard the guards salute to someone and a tall being of the same race was ushered. He wore beautiful silken robe, decorated with yellow and silvery ornaments, his long light hair secured in a simple yet utterly elegant hairstyle. He smiled at me and lowered his head in a warm greeting.

“My lady, I shall tend to your wounds now, if you allow me. My name is Amarth,” and with that he opened a wooden chest he had brought with him.

“I`m Kate. Thank you,” I replied and uncovered my bandaged thigh.

“The wound is deep and bleeds a lot. It will require immediate sewing. But you will walk after it is healed,” he encouraged me upon checking it. He then cleaned it and before the actual surgery reached out to touch my temples. He looked deeply in my eyes and my head started to swim. “You will feel no pain,” he said, and I did not, much to my surprise. But I did not have the guts to watch him work. I rather studied the room, concentrating on the sounds coming from the outside, until he was finished. He then tended to the cut on my stomach, little bruises and scratches on my feet and washed my face gently. Looking at the stained washing basin I realized how much blood I wore smeared all over my face! Then he washed my hands and arms and suggested that I clean the rest myself. He explained there were no other women in this camp to take care of me. He turned his back to me and sat at the end of the bed as I reached for the cloth.

“Are there any other wounds to be tended to?” he asked finally.

I hesitated for a moment. “No.”

“Are you sure, my lady? Deep in my heart I feel that you are hurting in other ways.”

“I am sure there are no other wounds,” I confirmed. What else could I say?

He replied nothing but I felt he did not quite believe me. I have just finished the hygiene and put on a clean men’s tunic that had been brought in for me, so he turned back to me, and to my great dismay, reached out to hold both his hands directly above my womb. I stiffened in a sudden strike of panic, but he did not touch me. I felt immense heat emanating from his palms and the pain between my legs started to ease until it finally disappeared. Then he placed his hands above my heart and made a small grimace of dissatisfaction.

“I have healed your body, my lady. The rest you will have to heal yourself.”

And with those words he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the story sofar. Please let me know and leave comments :) Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes another chapter :) Thanks to all who have left kudos and feel free to comment! I`d love to hear what you think.
> 
> I just realized that my dwarves as I describe them in this story are considerably tall, more or less of human height, just much more robust. I kind of can`t imagine looking down at Thorin or any other warrior! :) BUT you can imagine them as suits you.
> 
> Enjoy!

A few minutes after that they brought to me some soup to eat, with a few slices of bread. It tasted most delicious, especially in my state. And it was steaming hot, to finally warm me! Satisfied, I sank into the furs and let my eyes wander around the space. A dwarf-like, short man took the bowl away, only to return with a nice cup of strong herbal tea. I tasted some medicine in it, though.

”It will do you good,” he smiled, and backed away politely. The cloth in the entrance made a soft sound as he left.

I drifted in a shallow, disturbed sleep, though how long I slept, I did not know.

xxx

I opened my eyes to an early evening and stared in surprise at Thorin, seated on another bed on the opposite side of the tent. The table with the documents had been moved to make room for the new portable bed. Thorin had changed to a more comfortable, beige tunic, his dark hair sprinkled across his shoulders. An oil lamp to his side, the only source of light in the tent, cast dark shadows on his face. He looked dangerous.

“Amarth has done a good service to you. Your wounds will heal soon,” he spoke quietly, but sternly.

“Thank you… I want to thank you for all you…” I started slowly, my eyelids heavy from sleep and the calming medicine.

“Kate Evans, where have you come from?” he interrupted me all of a sudden, his gaze direct and penetrating.

I blinked. “I come from Norway, although my father is British. How I came here, I honestly don't know…” I paused, waiting for his reaction.

He raised his eyebrow. “That Norway. Where is that supposed to be?”

“It's a country in Europe, of course.”

“And that is?”

“A continent on Earth,” I replied in disbelief.

He stared at me, his fiery eyes growing even darker. “No more jests, Kate Evans! I want to hear the truth now!”

“But that is the truth!” I exclaimed, my voice rising shakily. “I honestly don't know! I don't know what happened to that wreck of a ship and where I am now! Where is this Rhovanion? I can't even check my GPS, I lost my cell in the damn water!” Now I was nearly yelling, tears in my eyes. “Who the hell were those creatures?” I collapsed onto the bed at the sudden pain which sprang from the cut on my belly.

Losing his temper, he grabbed a large parchment from the table and strode towards me. He tossed it on my bed and stood there towering, waiting for something. When I did not react, he pointed a finger to a lowland by a river, and I understood that was our location.

“Show me.”

I turned my eyes to the map once again. I realized I didn't recognize any of the rivers, towns or mountains. “I can't. This is not how Europe looks. Do you have a world map? A map depicting other continents?” I inquired, hoping I would finally persuade him that I was not a liar.

“Middle-Earth is the only continent on Arda as we know it now,” he replied gravely and took the parchment from my hands.

My heart sank. I did not try to wipe away the tears that quietly flew from my eyes now. I realized I could not tell him more about me and my… world. The thought struck me as a lightning. This must be some strange world, another world, another reality, perhaps even dimension! How else can you explain all that had happened?!

“This is a nightmare,” I sighed under my breath.

“Rest now,” he commanded and extinguished the oil lamp. Then he turned away and walked out of the tent. “Summon the generals!” I heard him growl to someone. As he rolled the cloth aside, the moonlight glistened on the golden helmet of one of the guards. It was the one who carried me in his arms earlier today.

I must have drifted in a heavy, dreamless sleep, for I did not wake up when Thorin returned. And I did not want to wake up at all, that was true.

xxx

The early morning found me sound asleep. I awoke to the muffled voices in front of the tent and then Amarth walked in, gracious as always, wearing his splendid silken robes and on his lips the ever-present smile. The cloth shielding the entrance was pulled to one side and secured there to let in the pale sunlight. He lowered his head in a greeting and sat down by my side on the bed.

“My lady, will you allow me,” and he touched my forehead to check my temperature. “You look better today. How was your night?”

“I didn't sleep very well…”

“Certainly because of me. We had some heavy conversation last night,” came the deep grunting voice from the right. I turned my head to the direction from which I heard it coming. Thorin was lying on his bed, half sitting, half leaning on one arm, enjoying his breakfast. With his free hand he reached for some cheese from a plate laid in front of him.

“She was lucky enough to be able to speak, after all the spirits that had been forced unto her yesterday,” Amarth said very calmly, turning to Thorin, and I was not entirely sure if he meant it as a joke after all.

“It did its job,” Thorin nodded, satisfied.

“It surely did, your Majesty.”

What did he just say?! I inhaled sharply, my cheeks turning red in a second. Was I sharing a room with a king? And… did I shout at one just last night? I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed. I could have guessed. By the way he spoke, moved and gave orders, and the air of authority which seemed to tame all defiance. But then again, I could have not. To introduce himself as king Thorin when we met each other would have sounded… out of place.

Amarth leaned in to examine the little scratches on my face and hands and then he showed to my leg. “Will you?”

I stared at him for a moment not understanding what he wanted me to do. “Oh.. yes,” He was either being so terribly polite or he did not want me to feel any kind of menace. Which I appreciated very much. I pulled away the fur to uncover my leg. He removed the bandage and started to cleanse the wound. The air filled with scent of herbs and fresh linen, mixing with dried blood. I watched him work. I felt grateful that someone cared for me in this horrid world, let it be a doctor caring for his patient.

“I will not have much time for this later,” he said while reaching for a clean bandage. “Not after the army returns.”

“Where are they going?”

“To war,” replied Thorin instead of him. He was towering in the entrance, already taking his leave, with his back to us. “We are at war.”

“When... are you leaving?” I breathed, unsure of my future once again.

“In one hour.”

“Then… good luck,” were the only words that came to my mind. What else could I say? Farewell and thank you if you don't return? I choked on the sentence but I think he kind of understood because he turned his head to me and nodded. Then he stepped out into the light.


	5. Chapter 5

We were left alone now. Amarth asked me to pull up my tunic so that he could examine the cut. I hesitated for a moment, remembering that I wore no panties now. So I pulled the furs up to my waist and did as he told me, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. I felt ashamed because all his care reminded me painfully of all that had been done to me. I pressed my lips to a thin line when he smeared an ointment over the already forming scar.

“Do not worry, the wound will leave no marks. It will turn invisible in a few months,” he smiled reassuringly. 

“I doubt there will be anyone to check,” I said bitterly but regretted it immediately because I said more than I wanted. “I wish I could return home.”

He finished what he was doing and looked me in the eyes for a long moment, as if searching for an answer.

“You have come from very far, indeed. Yet your journey back is impossible, I fear.” I gulped, but he continued. “This is a good world, you might grow to like it in time. Once this war against evil is over.”

And he spoke to me of Thorin's kingdom and this world, vast and strange as it was. Of the dwarves and the elves and other races that inhabited it, and of the hideous orcs and goblins who grew so wild and dangerous in recent years that war seemed inevitable to tame them. He told me how Thorin became the king after a long and exhausting battle which came to be known as the Battle of Five Armies, where his two descendants died. Victory was his, but he grew bitter and untrustful, darkness and rage poisoning his heart for ten long years. But then the orcs arose once again and chose to ride the neighbourhood, occasionally crossing the borders of the dwarven kingdom, killing and ransacking all the good that had remained. The last drop was a village burnt to the ground two weeks ago, just one-day ride from Erebor. That was when the decision was made to march against the orcs with full force, deep into the fields of wilderness. Elven king Thranduil sent his elite five hundred warriors for help, among them the personal guard that I had had the chance to meet already. And Amarth along with them. Then Amarth came to the point where our paths crossed. Thorin was leading a scouting expedition with his most faithful ones, that was when they found me. And today the future would be decided.

I came to understand that this was a world on the level of European Middle Ages, full of danger and grief. I was terrified by its sheer rawness and the possibility that I could be killed or hurt at any given time for literally no reason. It was so very far from my peaceful home in the overcrowded city, dull but safe! I thought I would never get used to it. And I didn't want to think of what I would do after my wounds are healed, where I would go. I was devastated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes another chapter as the previous one was quite short :)
> 
> Thanks for your kudos and comments, they mean a lot to me!

It was long past midnight when I heard the army return, the shouts and cries preceding it. Thousands of victorious voices rising in wild joy and laughter.

Then came Thorin's voice, summoning the keepers of the camp to care for the wounded. “Balin! Call for Amarth and Oin! Keep the wounded here in the centre so that the healers can access them at any time. Gloin, prepare the generals' tent for those who need surgery. Count the dead and wounded and report to me immediately!” Soon fire-flames sprang up all around the camp, I could see the night lighten and shine. After an hour came the smell of mutton being roasted and the voices started to slowly calm down.

The curtain at the entrance moved and Thorin walked in with his head proudly erect, his face smeared with blood and dirt, his hair hanging down his shoulders in thick messy ropes. He breathed out exhausted to death, his eyes closing for a brief moment, his shoulders finally relaxing. Then he looked at me and smiled.

“Congratulations,” I smiled back at him.

He nodded towards me in agreement, his eyes flickering with satisfaction. “I will have to keep you, Kate. Now that the future has been decided.”

I blushed deeply, not knowing what to reply. “I will not disturb you for too long, I will find my way out of this.”

“I strongly doubt that,” came the answer. 

He collapsed to a chair and immediately after that Amarth sped in with his wooden chest and flowing hair. 

“Where was the wound, your Majesty?” He helped Thorin get rid of his metal and leather armour that covered his upper body and arms. Thorin removed his tunic, growling at that movement in pain. Right under his arm, straight from the armpit down to the ribs came a nasty wound, where some blade found its way through the unshielded surface. Amarth ordered more light to be brought in and started to work on the wound immediately. Thorin rested his head on the back of the chair and in silence watched the healer do his job.

“Your Majesty should have summoned me earlier. You are risking your health for no reason,” uttered Amarth.

“Nonsense! Rather tell me how many of my warriors are wounded heavily. When is it appropriate to leave for Erebor?”

“I did not count those but we will need to perform several surgeries today the whole night long... Maybe tomorrow until the afternoon, that is if all present healers help with no breaks to recover their strength. But we will manage to save many lives, if Iluvatar smiles at us. The losses suffered seem heavier than they are.”

“Good. Then we shall leave in two days. Let us recover from the worst and head home at the soonest. Will you accompany us to Erebor, Amarth? Your task is over now that we have won. But you can stay as my guest as long as you wish. As a thank you,” he eyed Amarth in calm anticipation.

“It is my pleasure, your Majesty,” Amarth bowed his head. “I got used to dwarvish ways. I can stay until my king summons me back to Mirkwood,” he replied as he reached for warm water and soap. He cleansed Thorin's chest and face from all the blood - I was not entirely sure if all of it was his - and to my surprise, when he reached for his hair, Thorin halted him with a simple gesture.

“Don't waste your time here. Go and tend to those who need it.”

Amarth left us in haste, his long dress flapping at the entrance cloth at that. Then Thorin turned his attention to me. “It is your turn now, Kate.”

His request startled me. I blinked in surprise and lingered for a few moments.

“I do not have to tell you the reasons, do I?” he mouthed slowly, his stern eyes locked with mine.

I shook my head. Of course I would help him. Did he not help me? I shook off the furs that covered me and got to my feet hesitantly. I was quite weak still but fought the dizziness with all my remaining strength. I walked slowly towards him and collapsed to another chair behind him. I cautiously brushed his hair away from his face and poured some warm water over it. I looked around for some shampoo but all I could find was some basic soap. I doubted the dwarves would carry such useless things with them to war, so soap would have to do for now. I washed his hair as diligently as I could. He did not seem to enjoy it, nor did he seem dissatisfied. Then I wiped it dry and looked around for a comb. Of course there was none. So I used my fingers to at least untangle his hair, the thick wavy mane that it was.

“Your husband will miss this,” he turned to me to watch me closely.

“My husband? I'm not married.” I admitted. “Nor engaged. Nobody will miss me, if this is what you want to hear,” I whispered.

“How come? Are you not of the age?”

“Of course I am… but I don't want to talk about this.”

“You will not talk to me?” he asked menacingly, his eyes flashing with nearing rage.

“I will… but not about this. Please.”

“Is that a custom in Norway?”

“It's personal, Thor… Your Majesty.”

“You have lost all your secrets the very moment I found you. You must get accustomed to it. I will ask questions and you will answer them. I require that. No exceptions, Kate.”

I inhaled sharply. “It's not as you think. The age is not important in my country. We marry when we find the right spouse.”

“Did your father fail to find a proper man for you?”

“It's my decision and my choice, the family have nothing to do with it, of course.”

“So how does an unmarried woman make her living?” Thorin leaned in, frowning. “Does she walk the streets?” He growled under his breath.

“Of course not! Our women study and work! We are independent of the men! We live on our own, decide on our own and love on our own!” I was starting to get pretty irritated. “Even without marriage!”

That set him ablaze. He stood up, eyeing me angrily, his naked chest moving heavily under the bandage. “Where do you belong then?! Who keeps you safe at times of war, when you walk alone in the open land, when you are sick? When you have no kin of yours? What is it that you do for living, Kate?”

“Do you think me a whore?!” I shouted at him, mad to the point that my hands started to shake.

He shook his head. “Answer me.”

I inhaled three times, ever so slowly, to calm down. “You don't understand. We are safe in the public... Well, mostly. And the society, the government takes care of us if we need…” at those words he gave me the “do-you-really-mean-that” look. I felt I was slowly losing my ground. “I work in a telecommunications company, it's hard to explain.”

“Is it now?”

“Yes… I work with computers and.... Basically help my customers interact, communicate, exchange and store information.” Well, could I explain what a high-end server and storage was?

“Do you carry a weapon?”

“No.”

“Can you use any?”

“No!” I saw where he was heading. “I don't need it!”

He raised his eyebrow. “I see. Can you work in the field, Kate?”

I blushed the brightest red. “No.”

“Can you bake bread?”

“Stop this, Thorin!”

“I will not repeat myself!”

I shook my head, starting to feel desperate. This conversation was taking a turn I didn't like. And worst of all, he addressed the weak points in my past urban life, which I didn't have the courage to name myself. The dull everyday work, which made no sense, with no physical results. Just the eight-hour work at my desk, my eyes tired of the screens, day by day, year after year, in the bustling city that never slept, with all the nameless faces which didn't care. They just didn't. I had a few friends and acquaintances, that was all. He'd made his point. Tears of desperation filled my eyes.

“That is not a good place to stay,” he whispered, and it almost felt soothing.

“Is this one better?!” my voice shook.

“No, it is not. But there are people one can depend on.” He said surprisingly calmly. “Go to rest now. You have served me well today.”

“I`m not serving anyone!” I exclaimed.

“Are you not?” his eyes turned the darkest shade of blue. “I am running out of patience, Kate. Beware of what you say or you will face the consequences.”

I stood up abruptly, taking my leave angrily, but my sore body and stirred mind betrayed me. I would have fallen to the ground had Thorin not caught me. Without a single word, he lifted me in the air, grinning at the pain he obviously felt spreading from his new wound, and carried me towards my bed. He laid me in the furs and said in a very quiet but ever so menacing voice: “This is the second time I had to carry you. You had better think of a good way to return these favours to me.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes a longer chapter. Please leave comments and thanks a lot for your kudos :)

I awoke at the feeling of draught penetrating the tent. Shivering into the brisk morning air, I pulled the furs up to my chin. The sound of light rain against the tent cloth made me sink back with a slight sigh. I was alone here and with nobody else to upset me. I had some serious thinking to be done. Where would I go after I was healed? Could I try to search the lake one more time and possibly return home? I clung to the thought that I had missed something there and then, when all this happened. Some important clue. I needed to find out more, to have at least some plan, otherwise I'd go mad.

Later that day, I was visited by Amarth, and the grey-haired dwarf whom I had met on the first day, Oin. They did not talk much though. They inquired briefly how I felt and left to tend to the soldiers. I was brought a bowl of warm stew which tasted deliciously. Thorin returned in the afternoon, and along with him four dwarves whom I had never seen. By their expensive looking garments and armour I guessed they could be soldiers of a higher rank, or generals. They discussed their matters in a harsh, throaty tongue which I did not understand but occasionally heard from the outside camp. Finally, Thorin tapped one of them on the shoulder and they all left, smiling. I appreciated that so much.

Early next morning, just at daybreak, I was brought clean men's pants and a pair of leather boots. They did not fit my feet entirely but they had to do for the journey. It took several hours to pack the entire war camp, but we managed to set off still in the morning. I was helped into a covered carriage driven by a pair of heavy horses. I sat on a chest full of some beans, around me large sacks of flour, loaves of bread and smoked meat. I could even smell some coffee. A half-conscious elven soldier was lain beside me on the floor, on several layers of cloth. I was told he was being taken home to Mirkwood to be treated properly. I wanted to ask where that was, but we had to make haste. From time to time a soft cry escaped his lips, but we did not talk at all, he was too weak to even try. As we moved, I could hear steady raindrops bump against the canvas, and the sound soothed me to a sweet half-dream.

We travelled like this for three days, stopping regularly for food and relief of the stretched legs. At night the soldiers slept in the open, with the saddles under their heads. I stayed in the carriage though. It was very uncomfortable but still better than for most of us, so I did not object. I did not notice it at first, but the longer I travelled with no companion to talk to, I started to realize that the dwarves marching just behind my carriage avoided direct eye contact with me. This was becoming very strange. Thorin passed by us once a day while inspecting his army, giving me an unconcerned look from the back of his black stallion. He spoke a few words to the two elvish guards who rode by both sides of my carriage and left. I was starting to feel like a prisoner. What was wrong?

On the third evening I heard someone shout “Halt!” and our snake-like line stopped winding by a large forest, its trees tall and ancient beyond words. I heard some of the dwarves whisper "Mirkwood!", their eyes turning to the branches in a superstitious awe. I felt their sudden restlessness. That was when the elvish forces regrouped to a long narrow line and disappeared in the forest, taking my sick companion and other disabled kin with them. Their golden helmets glistened in the fading light and as they entered the dark depths, I could swear I heard the forest sigh with relief that its children had returned.

Amarth and a few personal guards stayed with us. Our carriages formed a large semi-circle as if for protection from an unknown enemy. This was very unusual. But the dusk was nearing and Thorin did not want to travel by night.

As I lay down to rest in the silence, I saw Thorin's silhouette passing by all alone in the dark blue light. He lingered at the border of the forest for a while, listening, waiting for something, his right hand resting on his sword's hilt. Then he turned around and strode towards my carriage. He spotted me fully awake and facing him, and stopped at the entrance. The darkness prevented me from seeing his expression.

“What is out there that you were watching?” I whispered with my heart in my throat. 

“Nothing to be afraid of now,” he murmured and stepped into the carriage. He laid down on the floor beside me, spread flat on his back with all his garments and sword by his side.

I laid back as well, but his presence at this distance was quite unnerving. I decided to break the odd silence.

“What is hiding in the forest? Tell me, please.”

“Mirkwood is an ancient and powerful place, full of hate and evil. There are beasts and spirits hungering for flesh. Sometimes they come out at night, but it is very improbable that we see them tonight. We are keeping our distance.” He explained matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” I shrugged at the thought. My pulse quickened. I stared at the opening in the canvas. There was no moon tonight and the night grew dark and weary.

“You asked.”

“Yes.”

“Try to sleep now.”

I turned my back to him and closed my eyes. I couldn't fall asleep for a long time though, and when I did, I dreamt of wolves and dragons in flight. They were nearing and I screamed but no voice came out of my lungs.

I awoke into the dead of the night all drenched in sweat. I sat up with a feeling of danger at hand but could not put my finger on why. Thorin's silhouette by my side moved to touch his sword. I knew he was listening as well.

Then came the cry of a guard, tearing the silence with its sharp intensity. It seemed to be quite near. And then the strange shrieking and hissing sounds of an animal which I did not know. Thorin was on his feet in a second. He jumped down from the carriage and spat his “Stay here!” at me. And he was away, running to the right and behind the carriage towards where Mirkwood spread. Then came other voices of soldiers shaken from their sleep, neighing of horses and sounds of fighting.

I froze and dared not move, my head blank with fear, my heart racing. After a few breaths I moved cautiously towards the entrance and risked a quick glance out into the night but saw nothing. I desperately needed to know what was going on, so I stepped out of the carriage and slowly moved in the direction where Thorin had run. What revealed in front of my eyes was like risen from a nightmare.  
About fifty metres away from me, a large spider-like creature rose in attack. Around it about ten dwarves, shouting and stabbing the beast with swords and axes. From the direction of the forest other three spiders ran, I could hear their hissing even here. I saw a silvery blade rise and just then a voice of horn sounded in alarm. I heard the sound of hooves behind me and then all went still.

xxx

I could feel the fire before I actually opened my eyes. Above me the worried face of Amarth and the touch of his healing hands. He spoke to me but I could not make out his words at first. To my left Oin aiding him.

“...my lady! Can you hear me?”

I nodded but a million sparks of pain exploded in front of my eyes. My leg hurt as well. 

“Do not move, everything will be alright,” advised Oin.

“What happened?” I breathed out.

“You are lucky the horse didn't kill you, lass. It rolled over you but we managed to get you from under it before it did you more damage,” he explained, adding some extra drama. “You have a couple more bruises but the worst is that your largest wound has reopened, judging by the blood. All the work from the last days is ruined. We have to start all over again.”

“Oh… but the spiders...?”

“Nobody was killed,” he smiled reassuringly. “Just a few wounded soldiers to be tended to, and you, of course.” He blinked at me. “But do not worry, we will fix you.”

“Thank you, Oin.” I managed a weak smile.

Then my eyes met Thorin's gaze. He was standing above us with his hands crossed across his chest in a menacing gesture. By his looks I could tell he was in terrible rage, his once ice-cold eyes gleaming and he would breathe fire as a dragon if he just could.

“Did I not tell you to stay in the carriage?!” he shot.

“Well… yes. But as you can see, I paid my price already,” I showed at my leg bitterly.

“You must learn to obey my orders!”

“Obey your orders?” I could not believe what he was saying. “I`m not your subject! Look, I owe you a lot, you helped me, without any doubt. But I will leave as soon as I can and we'll just wrap this all up.”

“You are not going anywhere.”

It took a few seconds until his words sank in. “What?! What did you just say?!” That bastard! I wanted to tell him more but my head started spinning from the loss of blood and all the excitement. At the edge of my sight I saw Oin and Amarth exchange worried looks.

“Do not speak, my lady. Try to relax. You have lost a lot of blood,” spoke Amarth, eyeing Thorin directly. Thorin took a deep shaky breath. I could see he was fighting his emotions with all the strength of his reason, and it was a difficult fight. After a few more breaths he seemed to tame the anger. He spoke very slowly now, carefully choosing his words.

“Tend to her wounds. Make sure she recovers her strength before we return. And explain to her how things are in Erebor.” Then he turned his back to us and left.

I could tell Oin was quite beside himself from our conversation. The dwarves definitely did not speak to Thorin in the way that I did. He was their king, of course, but I just could not help myself. I was not used to their ancient ways. Their admiration and obedience to their superiors. All the loyalty I could not understand. I was brought up as an independent woman, how could I bear such behaviour?

Amarth turned to me with a slight smile. “There we are. Shall we begin now?”

Then they cut my pants on one side to gain access to the wound and started to work. After all was finished, they covered me with an extra blanket and stayed with me watching the fire, occasionally checking if I was alright. They spoke of the attack, and that all were surprised that the spiders dared to come out of the forest. Amarth explained that it was indeed very unusual, but not entirely impossible. This night was moonless and the creatures felt safe under the cover of darkness. And hunger does its magic, he emphasized. They did not mention Thorin nor dwarvish ways though. Oin wanted to give me some time to recover and choose a proper occasion to talk, as I later discovered.

When my eyes grew hazy, they helped me back into my carriage. I slept all alone that night, my dreams heavy with tiredness of that day.


	8. Chapter 8

It took another long and weary day until we finally reached Erebor. I did not see the mountain from my carriage but could sense we were nearing by the cheerful mood of the dwarves and the change of the terrain which grew mountainous and the climate a little colder. The mists were rolling in front of my eyes thick and heavy. I was left waiting in front of the gate, watching the whole army march away towards my back. After them the sick and the wounded, various helpers in charge of the supplies, tents and gear, and then the horses and war chariots. At last, a wide-armed dwarf called Dwalin showed up and helped me out of the carriage. He lifted me in the air effortlessly and strode into the gigantic gate.

I was ushered into a small dark chamber at the beginning of a long and narrow corridor with numerous doors. Dwalin mounted several staircases with me, but then I lost count. It could have been ten floors or more. As I learnt later, the king's private chambers were located on the very top, just one floor above mine. There I dwelled for full three weeks, resting on a bed made of massive dark wood, its linen white as snow, its velvet covers the colour of the reddest wine. The room was furnished with basic and simple accessories - a large chest of drawers, a padded armchair and opposite the bed, a cosy fireplace. It did not give away much heat though, and at nights I often felt cold. I guessed the dwarves were much more warm-blooded than me. The walls of grey solid rock bore no coating, save for a single tapestry. To my right was a high narrow window overlooking vast plains covered with rocks and dried grass, on the left partly shielded by the solid rock of which the Lonely Mountain was made. The sharp winds which were blowing in these heights broke on its edge, their currents flowing past my window without ever touching it. Occasionally, I could hear them sighing in the fissures of the stone.

My only companions in those days were Oin and Amarth. There came a dwarvish maiden three times a day to serve to me meals, but she did not speak to me at all. My attempts to speak to her came along unnoticed. She smiled at me briefly and turned away. After a few days I tired of trying to befriend her. I remained silent throughout the day, lost in dark thoughts in this dark room and cold kingdom. Only Amarth seemed to enjoy my company and spoke to me long every other day when he came to tend to my wounds and check my condition.

“They accommodated you in the lightest chamber in Erebor,” he spoke to me once when I complained about the ever-present darkness. “Which you can consider an act of favour. The dwarves are used to much harsher conditions.” He smiled. I felt he enjoyed my company being an outsider in this realm as well. He seemed to be able to translate the dwarvish behaviour to me so that I understood… or was starting to understand… until one day.

That was when early in the rainy morning, I suppose it was on Tuesday, Oin came in and sat on a stool by my bed. “Does the thigh hurt still?” he inquired with an undertone in his voice which sounded strange.

“It does… but it's getting better every day… unless I move.” I looked at him in anticipation.

He nodded. I sensed he was trying to think of a gentle way to tell me something which I might not quite like.

“What will become of me? I was not sentenced to death, right?” I interrupted the awkward silence to ask him directly.

“Ugh, no, lass,” he smiled unwillingly.

“When do you think I can leave? I need to… return home.”

“Given your condition and circumstances, I do not think you will leave… unless Thorin decides otherwise.”

“What do you mean by that? I'm not a prisoner, right?”

“Well,” I felt a sudden strike of panic at this word. “In our lands, if someone saves your life, you owe him. You are in debt for the rest of your life, and it is anticipated that you pay your debts to the last coin, so to say. It is up to your saviour to decide the proper way that you do so. In most cases, you stay in the household or vicinity to help your saviour with everyday life. You can call that a life-long companion or a servant, if your master is fair enough. Sometimes it's a slave. Sometimes even worse. And sometimes you are fred, if Mahal allows and you deserve it.”

Thorin's ‘ _I will have to keep you, Kate. Now that the future has been decided_ ’ flashed in front of my eyes. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

“Deserve?! I didn't ask him to fucking save me! The orcs could have let me go in the end.”

“I am not in position to judge His Majesty`s decisions, lass. But if it helps you understand - the orcs never free their captives.”

“But that's not fair! He can't hold me here against my will!” I exclaimed, feeling the blood rush into my face in anger.

“Of course he can. He has every right to do as he wishes, by our law and tradition. You will remain in this chamber until his Majesty decides your fate. Until then, you have no name and no position in this kingdom.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nobody calls you by your name until your master decides your duties and you are given a new name. Understand this - you practically died and are reborn to a new life, bound to your saviour, with a new name. You lost all and gained all. The responsibility of how your life goes is now on Thorin's shoulders. Even more that you are unmarried.”

“You can't be fucking serious! This all is so sick!” I yelled at him. “What does my love life have to do with it?!”

“He can't let you go because you have no father or husband to tend to you, of course.”

“Yeah, I noticed that`s a great deal for you. If you just let me go you'd get rid of this burden that I am to all of you.”

“Don't waste too much of your strength on your anger.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Try to rest, you will get used to it in time. All is good, believe me.”

I collapsed on the pillows, tears of anger and humiliation stinging in my eyes.

I hated Erebor. I hated all the dwarves. And above all, I hated Thorin Oakenshield.

 

XXX

 

Nightmares disturbed my sleep since that day. I saw myself being dragged into a deep pit full of fire, and on its bottom, a devil-like creature calling me by my name, in Thorin's deep voice. And a pair of chalices, we poured to them water from the lake I drowned in, and exchanged them. It took me a few days until Oin`s words sank in and I moved a little closer to accepting my situation. All things pass in time, I once heard, but I doubted the person who said this had ever experienced any wrongdoing in their life.

Then one day, the massive wooden door opened and Thorin walked in. He wore a dark tunic secured with a large ornamented belt and black leather pants. There was no sight of adornments or any jewels pointing to his royal status. He stood by my bed with an air of authority, yet still with certain casual grace.

“How are we doing today?”

“Much better, thank you.”

He nodded. “It has been a long time.” He leaned in slowly and touched my chin with his index finger and thumb, lifting my face gently so that he could better inspect my skin. The scratches were almost gone, and he seemed satisfied. It was just me that felt awkward at the sudden intimacy. I avoided his gaze on purpose. He noticed that and smirked. Then without a warning, he pulled my blanket away and uncovered my wounded leg before I could protest. I felt sudden strike of panic as unwelcome memories flashed in front of my eyes. I screamed and reached for the blanket to pull it back, but he grabbed my hand and pinned it down. He sat down on the bed, shortening the distance between us, and murmured under his breath: “Don`t you dare to defy me!”, clearly enjoying this moment. He waited for a few more breaths and when I did not move, with one hand he slowly pulled my sleeping tunic away to uncover my thigh. The nasty wound was still there, although I did not need to wear a bandage anymore. An ugly thick scar was forming on the white skin, but luckily enough, the flesh was not inflamed.

He breathed out and slided his gaze across my body, the whole length from my leg, across my stomach and chest, and stopped to lock with my eyes. “The rest I will inspect later.” I gulped and he smirked at that. I looked away and desperately hoped that he just leaves.

“Look at me.” came the command.

I reluctantly looked him in the eyes, the deep blue lakes that they were. He reached out to touch my cheek, and traced the line of my lips with his thumb, ever so slowly. My breathing came in shallow gasps, as I fought my once again rising panic. “You do not need to be afraid.” He voiced nearly inaudibly, and I sensed in him understanding of what was going on in me... and fight to suppress his own nature. His hand was warm and his steady touch surprisingly comforting. He entangled his fingers with the back of my head and stroked the back of my neck. My muscles relaxed a little.

“Good girl. We will continue later.” At that he rose and gracefully left the chamber. The door closed and I was left all alone but with my confusion.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all, thanks a lot for your wonderful comments, I was happy to read all of them! :)
> 
> This is going to be a little more relaxing chapter, because Kate deserves it after all that she`s been through. For how long, though? *evil grin*

A few hours after that a tall female dwarf entered my chamber, her decent perfume filling the air as she moved gracefully, her long dress sweeping the floor. She was beautiful, with fair skin and black hair cascading down her shoulders, with a few streams braided at the back of her head. She wore simple but expensive dark blue dress and silver earrings which matched her pale blue eyes, embodiment of utter elegance. She stood in front of me with her arms folded across her chest as she studied me openly.

“So you are the little slave girl,” she said, her voice a melodic one, more to herself than to me.

“Obviously. Don't bother asking about my name. It doesn't matter anyway.” I was already pretty irritated.

She burst out in laughter, ringing sincere laughter which caught me by surprise. She was even more beautiful like that. “Thorin said you were a strange creature but I did not expect this! And in much better condition than I had thought! You are practically healed,” she smiled.

“And you are?”

“ _I_ am the one asking questions.” She made a small pause. “I will assign duties you are able to perform. Now, can you cook, iron, sew, knit, do any kind of needlework?”

I answered honestly I could do some ironing and simple needlework and was an average cook, at which she raised her eyebrow but did not comment. She thought for a brief moment and then nodded. “I will send in some clothes that need simple repairs and ironing. It is a temporary solution until you feel good enough to climb the staircases and join other staff.”

I did not reply. Instead of threatening me, she sat down at the edge of my bed and studied me for a long moment. “His Majesty requires that. I am in charge of his household and will see to you performing your tasks properly.” Her voice softened now. “You seem to be an intelligent woman, Katherine of Norway. Do not mess this up at the very beginning.” Touching my hand gently, she whispered. “He does not deserve it after all.”

I blinked. Did he speak to her about our conversation in the war tent? “You seem to know a lot. I don't think I understand your position here.”

“Of course I do know, being His Majesty's dear sister.” At this she straightened her shoulders. “My name is Dis, you are Kate. All is clear now, formalities aside. I know your name but cannot use it in public. That is how things are in Erebor. But sooner or later you will have to make up your mind. Live here as a complete stranger and suffer or accept our ways and what our family has to offer you. Think about it very carefully.” Then she smiled and changed the subject. “Now, I will have your supper sent in. Your door will have to remain unlocked as you are everyone`s property now. Good night my dear.”

“When will I be given the keys?”

“When you are given your new name.”

She left me silent and grim. The wild autumn wind howled in the chimney and I shuddered at the sound.

 

  
XXX  


 

The next day a large pile of freshly washed and dried clothes and linen was brought in and the servant girl pushed a low working table next to my bed. I could stand next to it until my leg tired and then have a rest as long as I needed. She showed me how to use their iron, as strange as it was. She took a few steaming wood pieces from the fireplace and shoved them in the iron`s opening, then waited for the tool to heat. Then I could do the ironing as usual, with a few sprinkles of water on the linen, although it needed a little more strength compared to modern electric irons. I did not complain though. At least I had something to spend my lonely hours with, and in fact I was not overloaded at all, Dis made sure of that. The ironing took about one or two hours a day. I was also given a new dress to wear during the day, very simple with no ornaments but comfortable. It was of the deepest forest green colour, the fabric rather thick but soft against my skin, its ankle length helping me retain as much warmth as possible in the cold days. Under it I wore a very light cream tunic with no sleeves as a kind of underwear and light leather shoes with thin sole.

Soon I was ordered to make small garment repairs, mostly stitching of tiny holes. I must have done quite well, because one day I discovered a familiar fur-lined cloak on top of the pile. I recognized a tiny blood stain on its edge where the meticulous washing had failed, and I shuddered.

I was slowly getting used to this life. The monotonous work with needle and iron, regular food and silence, except for the howling wind, was a soothing balm for my shaken nerves. Once in a while, in my stronger moments, I dared to open the door and peek out through the corridor. It was long and dark, with a few oil lamps secured on the walls, and an unrecognizable source of natural light - there must have been some hidden window or an opening in the heights. The corridor was lined with a series of other doors on both its sides, stretching as far as I could see to the left. As I learned later, it was inhabited by lower ranking officials and guests. To the right opened a staircase overlooking a huge, vast hall, resembling an abyss. I could see three floors on the opposite side from where I was standing, and was sure there were much more of them leading up and down which I could not see. The space between the mountain sides was enormous, echoing in its void, making the inhabitants look as unimportant and tiny as ants.

I was soon assigned the task to sweep the floor in this corridor. I did so daily, the servant girl reminding me of it by bringing a bucket of water in front of my door and knocking loudly. I was allowed to take my time so that I don't get exhausted.

Weeks passed and early winter crept in. I watched the first snowflakes dance in the wind, swirling in wild abandon, out of my shielded window. The days grew gray and even more silent, and I remembered bitterly I had not been out of the mountain for one single minute since I had arrived. Dis gave me a walking stick for support on walks longer than my corridor. I used it frequently to roam about and discover my strange surroundings, but preferred to choose the lonely hours of the night when I could not sleep. And there were fewer eyes to watch me. I did not make it to the main gate though, the ten floors were simply too much for my unused muscles.

That was when Dis entered my room to inform me about my new assignment. “You have done very well,” she smiled. “You can leave what you have been doing. Starting tomorrow, you will assist His Majesty with his morning routine.”

I nervously swallowed, and she giggled. “Now do you know how to behave in His Majesty's presence?”

I wanted to tell her that I should not call him a bastard in the first place, but then just shook my head.

“Never mind. First of all, never address him by his name. Never speak to him first, wait for him to start the conversation. If he asks you a question, address him as Your Majesty in your first sentence. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. One more thing, when you enter and leave his chambers, give a small curtsy. Just like this.” And she put her right foot behind her left and briefly bent at the knees. “It is easy.” And she patted me on the shoulder reassuringly.

Her silver-like ringing laughter echoed in my ears long after she had left.


	10. Chapter 10

Next morning, a male servant opened my door to shake me from my deep sleep. It was very early, just before the dawn, and the skies were still dark. I quickly washed and dressed, and half asleep, with my hair all tangled, hurried after him to the upper floor. This was the highest floor, as I learnt, and I could tell that it looked different, lush and richly decorated at first sight. All from the dark red carpet to the dozens of oil lamps told the story of the highest status of its inhabitants. A pair of silent guards stood at the beginning by the steps. Hidden by the corner before the corridor actually started, was placed an intricate tool used for bringing the buckets of fresh water all the way up here, resembling a very deep well. We just had to pull an iron rope for a while. We poured the cold water into a large jar which my companion took along with an empty bucket, and I was given a fresh towel to carry.

Like this, we strode to the very end of the corridor, to the single door in the centre which overlooked its whole length. The servant knocked on the door gently and waited. There was no response for a good while and then there came the sound of a key in the keyhole, the door opened and bright morning sun blinded me. Thorin's silhouette moved in the opening and disappeared before we could finish our morning greetings.

His private chambers consisted of two adjoined rooms, a bedchamber connected to a library and study, and a closet. The carpet was the same dark red colour, matching an ancestral tapestry hanging on the grey stone wall. To the right a large solid four-poster bed, opposite a fireplace and a coffee table with two padded armchairs. In front of me a high window with a bench in the wall, and an old harp which looked abandoned. Thorin was standing by it, peeking out at the early winter landscape, shirtless in the morning cold. The servant hurried to a toilette table in the corner, where a washing basin stood, poured yesterday`s water into the bucket and told me to fill it with the fresh water from the jar. Then he went on to open the window and tidy up the room. I was left standing by the table, holding a towel. I had no idea what to do. Thorin eyed me and strode towards the table. He washed his teeth with a white powder, a mixture of salt and herbs, and then lifted the jar and poured remaining water over his head and shoulders.

“What are you waiting for,” he said, eyeing me impatiently, water dripping from his hair to the ground. The servant was frantically gesturing for me to rub the water away, obviously on the brink of heart attack.

“I am sorry, Your Majesty,” I remembered to address him properly, and hurried to use the towel. I gently wiped away his face and hair, then hesitated briefly before touching his chest. He was finely shaped, with broad shoulders and strong arms, probably because of training with heavy weapons. He noticed that and smirked. I could feel his intense stare, as he was obviously enjoying the moment. I fought desperately not to look him in the eyes. I was not sure what he would see there. He interrupted my thoughts by stepping away and walking into the closet. The servant ran after him to assist with clothes. When Thorin walked out, he was wearing dark brown trousers and a dark red tunic which looked very noble on him. Then he sat on an armchair by the window and dismissed the servant with a single gesture. He looked at me, his eyes flickering with amusement.

“The comb.”

I took the comb from the toilette table and stood behind him. This time I had a comb to do what needed to be done. But this time, Thorin did not speak to me. I worked silently, and slowly started to relax. When I finished, his mane looked like a lion's, truly impressive.

Then he ordered me to bring in his breakfast. I hurried out of the chambers to ask the silent royal guards where I can get some food, and they showed me to a dining room just at the beginning of the hall. I peeked in and found lush breakfast being served on the table. I borrowed a tray from one of the servants and put on some bread, eggs, ham and strong morning tea. I carried all this to Thorin to lay it in front if him, and when I turned away to carry in some more - for there was much more prepared - he stopped me.

“That's enough. Sit,” and he gestured towards the other armchair.

I sat down hesitantly. He took a good bite of the bread.

“You did well with the stitching.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I just hoped he would not start evaluating my other skills. But he did not, surprisingly.

He ate in silence, and I had nothing to say either, so I watched the morning sun rise out in the distance.

“You may leave now,” he dismissed me when he finished his breakfast. I took the tray and before walking out of the chamber, I remembered to give the curtsy. My leg got caught in the long dress, I stumbled and nearly fell down with the tray in my hands, but managed to maintain balance.

I shot a quick glance at Thorin, prepared for a fight.

But he was smiling.

XXX

 

It took a few weeks until my companion servant taught me the proper service. Then he left me perform my duties alone. The first time I knocked on Thorin's door felt awkward but I got used to it. The longer time I spent in Erebor, with more confidence I moved in his chambers. Thorin did not speak to me and I kept my silence as well. He made a small compromise though by helping himself in his clothes, which I appreciated a lot.

One morning, we sat at the table as usual, Thorin taking his time while eating his breakfast. It was quite chilly that day, I did not sleep well at night and felt weak. I remembered my empty stomach which was normally not a problem. I was looking at Thorin's plate impatiently, when I heard the hungry noise come from my belly. Thorin stopped chewing.

“Are you coming to my chambers hungry all this time?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” I lowered my eyes.

“Then I have been torturing you since the beginning,” he said accusingly. When I did not reply, he pushed his plate in front of me.

“Eat. Next time I want you to come with full stomach.”

“Thank you… you did not need to-”

“Nonsense! You cannot serve me well if you are this weak.”

I shot an angered look at him, but the food in front of me looked too delicious not to taste it. I swallowed my words and took a good bite instead.

“Clean up when you are finished,” he said before taking his leave.


	11. Chapter 11

The king's mornings mostly consisted of attending to state affairs in the audience hall or discussions with his generals and advisors. This happened several times a week. In more quiet days, he sat at his desk in the study, reading through parchments and signing some of them. It was my task to tend to this room as well, but he did not seem to notice me working. In those days, he always ordered me to bring him some wine with water in a tall carafa. I watched him absorbed in the work in front of him, often unconsciously frowning, and when he needed some more time to think about a problem, he took his pipe and smoked long enough to reach a conclusion. Sometimes he strode across the library and I had to get out of his way while dusting the books.

“Can you read?” he asked me once when he caught me trying to decipher a title of an old manuscript.

“I can read our alphabet, Your Majesty. I know the runes but cannot read them. There are lots of stones inscribed by them in Norway. This script I do not know,” I showed at a line of books bearing very gentle and intricate tall letters. “And this looks familiar to Latin alphabet. It's so strange to find it in this place.” My eyes were shining with enthusiasm. He took a large book out of a shelf and passed it to me.

“Can you read this?”

“ _The tales of the dwarvish kingdom. Collected myths, stories and legends of the ancient folks. Common tongue edition_.” I opened the book, happy to understand it, and flipped over a few pages before looking up at Thorin. He looked somewhat surprised.

“You _are_ educated then.”

“Of course I am. I told you the truth.”

“You can read, but you still cannot take care of yourself.”

“What? Of course I could take care of myself in my world! I lived on my own!”

“Enough of that, woman! Take the book and read it in your free time.”

“I will do so. But you cannot accuse me of such incapabilities all the time! Why does it matter so much to you?!”

Thorin's eyes darkened. I watched his expression change to that of deep anger… and something else.

“There is something in you,” he moved one step closer, and was looking down at me now. “Something that calls out my own demons.” With that, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders and in one swift movement pulled my dress all the way down to my elbows. My arms got stuck in the cloth and I couldn't move them, shocked. He slided his eyes across my bare skin and cupped my breasts with both of his hands. They were warm and strong in the cold air and I blushed deeply at the sudden pained desire in my core.

“See? I could take you right here on the table and you'd do nothing against it.” He pressed his body against mine and held my hands behind my back. He pulled at my hair so I was looking up at him now, my neck bent back, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Don`t! Please,” I managed to say, terror and unwanted passion mixing in me, running down my thighs. Soft moan escaped his lips, and I felt his erection pressing hard against my thigh.

“So vulnerable,” he breathed into my hair. He held both my hands down with his one hand, and with his free hand traced my cheek, neck, breasts and my bottom. He squeezed it tight, and I gulped. “So vulnerable, yet you don't fight to save yourself. Are you that submissive or is it the shock of what you have gone through?” Now he was breathing heavily, and I felt his hand slide up my thigh, emanating warmth even through the cloth of my dress. He reached in between my thighs, and I cried out at the hot wave the touch sent through my body. Still, I could not accept him.

“Please don't!” I whispered with tears of desperation in my eyes, and made an attempt to move away from him.

“And yet you respond to me!” he breathed, his eyes filling with dark passion. He was holding me even more tightly now, running his hands all over my breasts and thighs, squeezing at my buttocks, pressing me closer to his body as if he wanted to absorb me, sink me in. When he reached for the bottom of my dress and started to pull it over my knees, I realized what he was doing and cried out loudly, tears streaming down my face freely. Surprised, he looked me in the eyes, and I saw sudden change in him. He looked around the room, as if remembering where we are and what is happening, and he let go off me. He pulled my dress back up my shoulders and took a few steps back. Then he turned his back to me to lean against the window.

“You may leave now,” he dismissed me sternly. I ran out of the chamber, the ancient manuscript all but forgotten on the ground where it fell. At the edge of my sight, I saw Thorin reach out for his pipe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there goes Thorin :) Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I was thinking a lot about the languages and what would a stranger be able to comprehend in Middle-earth, and as the dwarves were used to speak Westron (resembling Anglo-saxon and old Norse), having English and Nordic origins, it would help Kate to communicate with them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,   
> the story will be getting darker, heavier and more violent in the following chapters. A heads up for those who are following me from the beginning - I have edited the tags, I encourage you that you re-read them, just to be sure that we are all on the same page!
> 
> Thanks for all your comments, kudos and suggestions! Enjoy!

I was so afraid of the morning that I could not sleep. I tossed and turned on my bed until I gave up and just stared wide-eyed in the darkness. I did not understand what was going on in me, all the opposing feelings of fear, despair and passion, but I knew I had to do something otherwise I would go insane.

I silently opened the door and walked out of my chamber, down a few staircases where I knew the kitchen was, along with royal storerooms and staff quarters. I stopped at one of them and, holding my breath, pressed the door handle. To my surprise, the door opened and I effortlessly sneaked in. Leaving the door slightly opened so that the torchlight came in, I entered the storeroom. All around were standing countless wooden boxes, barrels, sacks and glass vessels, full of supplies and unguarded. On the other side of the large room stood wooden chests with neatly folded royal bed linen and various fabrics. I did not find there what I wanted, so I tried another room. This time I was successful. Before me opened a real treasure of servant clothing and various household utensils - hundreds of candles, piles of soap bars, ropes, working tools. I opened several of the chests and dug through the stored clothes, which to my surprise, were winter fur clothes! I took a pair of thick pants, a thick woolen tunic and a snow-white hooded coat, and in the next chest I found a pair of boots. They did not fit me perfectly but that had to do. On my way back, I packed a bag with food supplies for a about a week, and returned to my room. I knew the front gate closed for the night, so I had to be patient.

The morning found me fully awake, staring onto the vast white plains where my fate would be decided. I had no idea where I would be heading, but the tinderbox which I had taken did provide at least a slight chance of surviving a week until I found a friendly village. Providing I would be able to use it. The gate opened with the first sun rays, and I knew I did not have much time until Thorin found out something was wrong.

It started to snow. I dressed in a hurry, threw the bag with supplies over my shoulder, and walked out of the chamber without ever turning back.

The gate was already open. I sneaked out among other travellers, holding my head down and slightly bending at knees while passing the guards. It was surprisingly easy. I decided to avoid the city which rose in front of Erebor - it would be my hunters` first choice. Instead, I walked over a wide bridge and headed in the direction other than the one from which we originally came the other day. It was snowing heavily now, and I smiled for myself. The snow will cover my tracks. With a little luck, they will not find me.

I walked for about an hour on the wide road, passing occasional travellers. Their numbers grew scarcer with time, as the land opened to its vastness. I started to feel uneasy, imagining what might be going on under the mountain right now, and decided to leave the road, just in case. I followed it from a distance though, hiding behind rocks and trees, which slowed me down, but I felt safer. After some time, I heard horses running by and shouts of men, but if they were searching for me, I did not know. I pressed against a rock and waited, thankful for my white coat. When I heard nothing anymore, I decided to continue on my way.

After a few hours, I sat down under a tree to rest for a while and eat a little bread and salted mutton. I heard no sounds of hooves by the evening, which encouraged me a little. I headed far into the wilderness, off the road, to find a group of trees, which could not really be called a forest, but still they offered some cover. I pressed my hurting body inside a large broken tree trunk which formed a narrow hole, and half sitting, closed my eyes to rest for the night. I did not dare to light a fire though, and was afraid that I might freeze to death, so when I started to feel too cold, I stood up to walk for a while, jumped and ran around, and then went back to my place. I would not fall asleep anyway, not with all the adrenaline flowing in my veins.

In the morning I decided to light a small fire to warm up my frozen breakfast and when I took off my gloves, found my fingers numb and hard to move. There was a prickling sensation to them. I cursed but after a while managed to regain some sensibility. After a few tries I lit the fire, and I praised myself for having paid attention while the servant girl tended to the fireplace in my old Erebor chamber. Then I ate hungrily and made myself hot black tea. Warmed up but tired from the sleep deprivation, I strode back to the road and followed it further on. I had no idea where I was heading, but was sure there would have to be some settlements scattered along it. It was a matter of luck if I managed to find one before I froze to death, but I was willing to take the risk. Not that I had a choice anyway.

As the evening began to fall, I once again left the safety of the road and headed towards some scattered rocks and trees in the distance. I was unbelievably exhausted and decided to have a good night's sleep by the fire. How surprised I was to find a cottage hidden just behind them! Smoke was coming out of its chimney, and I walked towards it to inspect who was inside. I saw an old woman through the window standing by a pot and cooking. Thick fog started to fall, heavy and smooth as milk in a jar, and suddenly I was desperate for a warm bed and human presence. Tears stung in my eyes as I longed for someone to say they were sorry for me. After a few minutes of uncertainty, I decided to knock on the door.

“Who`s there?” a suspicious voice came from the inside.

“I am a lonely traveller and I need a cover for the night. May I come in, please?” I tried to sound as friendly as I possibly could. I even smiled in the falling dusk.

The door opened just a few centimeters and an old judging eye glared at me. “Do you have money?”

I hesitated and then answered: ”I can share my provisions, good woman.”

After this, the door opened and the old woman sneaked out to check if I was really alone. “Come in then, darling.”

I stepped into the house, which consisted of the single large room. It looked rather clean, with herbs hung above the fireplace where cooked what looked like dinner. In the corner stood bed and a wooden chest, otherwise the place was empty.

“You can sleep on the ground by the fire. Your coat looks very noble - I hope you can bear such conditions, lady.”

“Oh, I am happy for that, thank you,” I said, while trying to suppress an uneasy feeling.

“Where are you travelling all alone in winter?”

“Family matters. I have to visit my distant relatives.”

She nodded knowingly, and did not ask further. She handed me a bowl of stew and I took out a loaf of bread which we shared. I massaged my fingers which once again felt numb and held them close to the fire. They had swollen since the morning and felt itchy. I mentally cursed.

We did not speak much. She looked like she did not need attention despite living this lonely life, and I was too exhausted to initiate a conversation. She placed a rag in front of the fireplace, I put off my boots and coat and laid down to rest. It must have taken seconds until I fell asleep because I do not remember anything after my head touched the floor.

 

XXX

 

What is this feeling? Someone is touching me… Someone is touching me! Wake up, quick! I struggled to open my eyes heavy from the unnatural sleep. When I finally came to my senses, I saw the old woman kneeling beside me, searching my pockets. I yelled and kicked her. “What the hell are you doing?!”

She did not reply and struggled to finish her search. But she was weaker and when she realized she could not possibly win, she reached for the poker and held it in front of her, pointing at my chest. “Get out of my house!”

I glanced around only to find out my clothes and bag were gone. “Where's my coat?!”

“Get… out!” she spat again and reached out for a blow. The poker swung dangerously close to my chin and I backed towards the door, my head swimming. She must have added something in my stew.

“Give me back my clothes! You can't have me walk out like this without boots and...uhhh... coat!” I demanded, reaching for the door handle, and when she made another attempt to hit me, I flung the door open and fell down a flight of steps, landing hard on the icy ground. I shook my head in disbelief. I felt warm blood streaming down my face in a thin string. The snow under my bare hands and feet stung, the blood drops forming tiny scarlet flowers, and the cruel truth struck me hard. I will die here. There is no way out.

I took in the chilly morning air to brace myself for my final stand, and struggling to my feet, I bumped into something. It was a heavy boot coated with fur and metal pieces. I looked up in despair to meet Dwalin`s gaze. He stood there with his hands across his chest, taking in the situation.

“Dwalin…” I whispered out of breath.

“What dwarvish scum have you brought here!” The woman yelled. “Get… out, I said!” The poker made a circle in the air, aiming for my head. Dwalin caught the weapon with his one hand, with the other grabbed the woman by her throat and yanked her to one side so that they were now both facing me, the enemy kicking and screaming. Stopping for a brief moment, his gaze met something behind my back.

I turned my head and gulped.

Thorin was watching us from the back of his black stallion just a few meters away. Around him a group of soldiers and a few other familiar faces. Motionless, his wild mane flowing in thick messy ropes down his shoulders, across the blue cloak I knew. His expression impenetrable, detached as a king should be, only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him and the watchful night he must have spent in search for me. He slightly nodded in approval. With one smooth move, Dwalin slit the woman's throat, the blade breaking her skin as if it was of pure butter. She gasped for breath and collapsed to the ground, dead in seconds, her blood forming a red carpet all around. It was as simple as that. Taking life is the easiest thing in the world for a warrior.

Thorin dismounted and strode towards us slowly. He turned the corpse around with his foot and spotted a dwarvish golden bracelet on its hand. He snarled at the soldiers: ”Search the house!” and they sped in to fulfill his order.

Then he turned his attention to me. I dared not look him in the eyes, nor speak, so instead I just stared at the ground where the corpse was lying in the most unnatural position, its glossy eyes wide open. He reached out, pulling me towards the corpse, and forced both of my hands in the blood-stained snow. I struggled feebly, not daring to resist him in the open. My stomach felt weak, and I would have vomited, had it not been empty.

“How does it feel, slave?!” he spat, his voice full of hate. He was right. Her blood was on _my_ hands. _I_ killed her. Had I not escaped… Tears of shame and regret stung in my eyes. My voice shook: “I'm sorry, your Majesty…”

I risked a quick look at him now. Just one brief moment, and what I saw in his eyes made my heart sink to the very bottom. I understood that this time I had overstepped way too far, far beyond anything he could ever forgive. I had betrayed him, his trust in me, and all was lost. I saw endless anger, and what was even worse, endless disappointment. His jaw tightened as his icy blue gaze met mine.

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty… I'm so sorry…” I whispered only for him to hear, keeping my eyes low. He did not reply, and I started to sob. Suddenly I felt I was losing him, and the realization struck me unprepared. I needed his attention, in the strangest of ways. I needed his strength and guidance in this world I did not come to understand. He did what he considered right, from his point of view, even though I failed to recognize it. I was ashamed to the core. “I`m so sorry… if only I could take things back… I would never have left…” I pushed out in between the sobs. The blood stang in my eyes and I wiped it away with my cuff, it was not important now. “Will you ever forgive me? Please? I was so afraid...” I dared to look up at him.

He did not let me speak though. He made a silencing gesture and my apology froze on my lips all forgotten. He seemed to be judging the bleeding wound on my head for a brief moment. Then, probably having come to a decision it was not that heavy, he nodded towards Dwalin who helped me to my feet. “Let her dress,” he commanded darkly, “Then tie her to my horse.” My eyes widened and Dwalin grinned as he proceeded to fulfill the order. He retrieved my dress from the hut and threw it to me. I dressed hastily and he led me away to the horse. There he tied my hands with a rough rope and fastened the other end to the horn.

After a while the soldiers who searched the house came out. “Your Majesty,” saluted one of them, holding in front of Thorin a sack filled with golden trinkets, jugs and candlesticks. “The witch must have stolen from more, who knows what other crimes she had committed.” I shrugged. I was supposed to be dead by the evening.

“So much for a fair trial,” Thorin growled. “Leave the corpse as it is. The wolves will do the work.” Then he strode to his horse and mounted it. He checked if my rope was tied securely to his saddle and we set off.

XXX

 

We strode at a steady pace and it started to snow again. After a few hours I grew really tired and the walking exhausted me more than I would have thought. I dragged my freezing feet after me in the once-again deep snow but fought my body's needs, pushing it to its limits. I did not object how they treated me, I very much deserved it, and was willing to yield as far as I could. Obedience was the route to Thorin's heart.

We walked the whole day with just a single half-an-hour-stop for the men to eat and relieve their bladders, and then we went on. I was not given anything to eat and I did not dare to ask for a break for myself. I doubted they would let me go pee unguarded. So when Thorin left for a brief moment, I did what I needed where I was squatting in the snow, still bound to his horse. Nobody seemed to care.

It was surprising to find out that my route along the main road took twice the time it should have, as we saw the Lonely mountain rising in front of us the very same evening. It stood out from the snow-filled plain as a large finger pointing angrily to the skies. _Behold the kingdom of the dwarves!_ , it said, and I had a sudden deja-vu. Just a few months ago I was entering this mountain in a very similar situation, weak and wounded. What had changed since then? I felt I was running in circles like a bug in an empty bowl, never finding its way out.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: contains graphic depictions of violence

_One by one_

_Love's raised horns sound their sweet surrender_

_And one by one_

_Her defences fall debris_

_My will be done_

_I shall storm the gates where fates defend her_

_And once I've won_

_Her heart will belong to me_

(lyrics by Cradle of Filth)

 

The dwarves dismounted the horses which were immediately taken over by staff and led to the stables to be tended to. We climbed the ten floors over the ground, on which I spent the last of my strengths. All I wanted was to lie down and sleep in my warm bed. Any bed. Just sleep and never wake up.

When I recognized Thorin's private quarters though, I rallied in anticipation of what was about to come. Unsure and vulnerable I was led through the red corridor, and I took in the familiar scent. Thorin entered his chamber and Dwalin pushed me inside in front of him. Then he closed the door from the inside and stood behind me with his arms crossed on his chest. Thorin immediately gestured towards my clothes and Dwalin stepped in to undress me, quickly and violently. I stood there all naked now but in a thin tunic, but Dwalin did not do me the last favour. He tore the tunic from my shoulders and it fell to the ground in two poor pieces. I covered what I could with my hands and stood there shaking.

Thorin took off his heavy coat and threw it on the bed. Then he walked towards me, slowly but ever so menacingly, and I saw his expression change from the regal mask he wore in the outside to the real Thorin, his anger now unleashed. He reached out and hit me hard, so hard I lay on the floor in a second. I touched my reddened cheek, shocked, but did not speak to defend myself. I deserved it. I struggled to my feet again, very slowly and unsure if I was allowed to, and he hit me once again, with even more strength. Now I was sobbing openly, my bladder betraying me as I lay there shaking and exhausted, and I hid my face behind my hands to cover my shame. A puddle was forming on the carpet under me.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” he stormed. “Escape from me like that would save you from anything, from yourself?! Do you have an idea what it means for me as a king? That I cannot handle my own slave! How can I rule a kingdom when my slaves do not submit? What message does it send to my subjects, my subjects who watch my every move, did you think of this when you were running away like a sick bitch?! I was too benevolent to you!”

“I had no idea… I had no idea.... Y0ur Majesty… I'm sorry,” I whispered between sobs, not daring to look up and meet his gaze.

“No, indeed you had no idea. Any dwarf in your position would now beg me to let him take his life in front of my eyes, to repay his debt and unloyalty. But you… you,” he was searching for words. I heard his steps as he was marching around the room.

“I`m so sorry, Your Majesty. I will do anything you wish,” I said, being pretty sure I did not have the guts to offer my life. He smirked knowingly. “If only you forgave me...”

“No. It will not be that easy, slave. I will make sure you repay to the very last bit,” he hissed, and I heard him kneel down beside me. He took me by my hair and lifted my face so that I had no other choice but meet his gaze. He held the contact for a brief moment, then looked down at the wet carpet under me.

“Very good,” he said, smirking. “We will continue with the hair now.”

With that, he took out his long knife and cut off a handful of my hair. And then another. I winced, placing both of my hands on his chest, squeezing the soft fabric of his tunic, partly to steady myself, partly to hold him at the arm's length.

“Do not move!” he commanded. “I am taking half of your hair now. It will betray your crime, from now until it grows back. Until then you will live in shame among us. Should you ever fail me again, all the rest will be cut away, and you will be sold to the slave-traders of the enemy. You are given one more chance, slave. Remember that well. Is that understood?” he growled darkly.

“Yes,” I pushed out between sobs.

“Good. Now don't move unless you want to get hurt.” And he placed the cold blade on my scalp and cut away the first hair, just at the roots, dangerously close to the skin. He worked quickly but efficiently, and I held my breath to minimize my movements. When he finished, I touched my head to explore the damage. The look on my face must have shown my deepest horror, because he returned his: “That will teach you manners,” while sheathing the knife.

I waited for his permission to stand up and leave, but it did not come. He slowly strode to a wooden chest from which he produced a large leather belt. For a brief moment he weighed it in his hand, as if judging if it was the right tool for my punishment. Having come to a conclusion, his features hardened, and I knew what was to come. My heart was beating its way out of my chest and my head went dizzy from the cold fear spreading in my veins. And then there he was again, breaking my weak struggle with extra force anger gave him, yanking me fiercely to lie face down on the floor. He placed just the tip of his foot on my shoulder, pinning me securely down in the position, and that was when I literally started to shake from the anticipation of pain.

He said one word - “Ten!” - and I heard the air breaking on the belt as it fell down and I screamed in pain. Then came other nine blows, each as slow and heavy as the former, well aimed from my back down to my bottom, and I wrung and cried and pleaded, but to no avail. When he finished, my back was all fire and blood and I was left with no power to move or speak.

The world was fading in black and white and I heard Thorin utter: “Dress her and take her downstairs. Through the main staircase for all to see.”

Then I stopped to feel and drifted to a world where no sounds dwell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this was a difficult chapter, poor Kate. BUT things will get better for her, later on. She has a long way to go still.
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos!


	14. Chapter 14

I awoke to absolute darkness. I felt the cold rock under me bite in my skin and wet air chilling my bare feet. I was lying face down on a piece of thin cloth which was half covering me, but did me no good in fact. I was hurting in every way, not just my damaged back and bottom. The worst was the hot bruise I felt stinging on my cheek. I did not care where I was. There came no sound, just the echoing silence of my own troubled breath and water dripping in a thin stream somewhere close. After some time, my eyes got used to the darkness and I recognized a few shadowy shapes. The door. The tiny square room. The sharp surface of the walls ripped out of the mountain flesh. The empty bucket in the corner. Of course. I closed my eyes and dozed off.

When I opened them again, I realized there was subtle light coming through a tiny hole in the door. Then I heard footsteps approaching and silent chatter. The door opened with a screech and a tall thin figure walked in.

“My lady.”

Amarth knelt next to me, placing a lantern close by. He brought in fresh air and the scent of winter forest.

“Amarth... “

“Save your strength, my lady, ” he spoke in a hurry. “My visit here is against the King's orders for you to be left on your own. If you understand.” I was too tired to even nod, so I lay there, waiting while he examined my wounds. “If you allow me.” And he lifted my tunic hastily, up to my shoulders, baring my body as it was, full of fresh wounds in the torn skin. I did not care. Nothing mattered anymore. He cleansed the skin quickly and put an ointment on the wounds along with fresh bandages. Then he examined my hands and shook his head. “Squeeze my fingers, my lady.” I did as he said, weakly. “I cannot do any more now, I am afraid. Drink this, it will do you good,” and he produced a tiny flacon out of nowhere and made me swallow its contents. It tasted bitter but sent hot waves through my stomach and veins nearly immediately. I felt a little better.

Then he stood up and knocked on the door. “You must be strong, my lady. I will do what I can but given the situation…” And he left, the door closing behind him with a loud thud.

I dozed off to the troubled sleep again. I woke and dreamt and soon the boundaries between sleep and wake blurred until I no longer knew what was really happening. I saw faces leaning in from the dark, dwarvish faces, then snow fell and I lay on the forest floor under starry skies. I felt terribly hot and the snow brought away my pain. The mountain talked to me. It spoke its anger of being cut in pieces by the merciless hammers and mattocks. It sang to me of the glory of its immense underground treasures which still lay hidden from greedy eyes. Of deep crystalline lakes of cool fresh water in its depths. I saw myself lying on the ground in a deep underground dungeon, barely breathing, and my head felt strangely light, my senses sharpened. I rose above the mountain, playing along, chasing the winds, and in the labyrinth of the corridors beneath saw thousands of tiny lives moving, dwarves and animals, working, fighting, laughing in bitterness and joy. I saw the king in his lonely chamber, sleeping his restless sleep. Then the mountain spoke " _Return to the lake when the storm rages"..._ and I started falling back to my body through an abyss, backwards, facing the skies.

I opened my eyes gasping for breath. I saw Dwalin`s face leaning in and mutter something, but I could not make up the words. All fell into the deafening silence again.

XXX

 

“My lady, let me help you now that I can,” Amarth offered, placing a large bowl of water next to me. I blinked hazily, my head still dizzy. I peeked out of the window. Bright winter sun came shining in the chamber, my chamber, my bed. Cosy fire was lit in the fireplace, its flames licking at apple tree wood, as I recognized by the scent. Amarth was seated by me on the bed among various healing necessities he had brought with him, and by the doors a dwarvish guard stood, expressionless.

“Thank you Amarth,” I tried to mouth but no sound came from my cracked lips. I coughed. “How long…?”

“Do not speak. I am allowed to talk to you only regarding the matters of your health. If you understand.” He explained silently and I glanced at the guard. I nodded and took the first look at my hurting hands.  The skin had turned red and dark brown at some places and tiny blisters started forming. I moved my fingers to try them and hissed in pain.

“Here,” Amarth said, placing the bowl closer. “They have been frostbitten. Put them in. We must slowly bring them to normal temperature.” I obeyed, frowning at the movement. I did not know where the pain came from as the fingers felt numb. In the meantime, Amarth examined me thoroughly, his attentive gaze stopping at my once long hair and the skin of my face. It must have shown some change in colour because he shook his head disapprovingly. I stared at my hands, feeling blush rising to my cheeks. He did not comment on my state though, instead he placed a piece of clean cloth on my skin. It felt soothingly cold, and tears stung in my eyes.  _ Look at where you are now, you silly _ , I thought to myself.  _ For them all to see _ .

“Can I look in the mirror please?” 

Amarth hesitated for a moment before holding the mirror in front of me. At first I could not believe my eyes. I did not recognize the broken person staring at me from beyond the messy, blood-cloaked hair, at least what remained of it. It was neatly shaven on the whole left side of my skull, just as close to the bone as possible, making me look like a man. Like a defeated man. Exposing my bruised left cheek where Thorin's hand fell twice. I gasped and averted my gaze.

Amarth stayed for about half an hour, helping me to sip a few spoons of hot broth, while my hands bathed. Then he left along with the guard, promising to come back soon. 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Amarth indeed did return, in fact he returned several times that day, and the days that followed. Each time bringing a bowl with water warmer than before, and slowly I started to feel my fingers tingling as they sucked in the warmth.

“Let us see if your sense of touch comes back again. I cannot promise it will, though,” he stated between changing of my bandages, and I sighed.

I spent several days in bed just like this, hurting, exhausted and alone. Nobody came to see me, not even Gloin or Dis, and I felt trapped as if in prison, a much lighter and warmer prison, but it did not make much difference. The door remained locked from the outside now. As the long lonely hours passed, a single thought of opening the window and just jumping out crossed my mind. I pondered on it for a brief moment, but decided against it. I did not have the guts to kill myself, and what was the worst, I did not know if it was good or not.

About a week after that Thorin showed up. It was early morning, I was staying in bed as usual, all tucked in the covers. He strode into the room, wearing dark leather pants and a burgundy tunic, and the air changed as he glared at me from under his thick eyebrows. He walked around the room as a lion examining his territory, checking on if his orders had been carried out to the last bit. Then he stood above me, arms crossed on his chest, and uncomfortable silence filled the room. My heart started to pound faster, and I looked down to avoid his gaze.

“So,” he started, and his voice sounded deep but strangely cold. “Do we still want to fly? Or have you changed your mind as women like to do so often?”

“No! I will not try to escape any more, your Majesty. I would like to apologize to you, I really would like to…” I whispered, keeping my eyes downcast. “I know I had overstepped too far. I have failed you. I am sorry for that. I will not leave unless you wish me to, I promise. I swear.”

He snorted. “No, you will not.”

He sat down on my bed, his features stern. “Show me,” he said, pointing to my hands. I stretched them out meekly and he studied them with a frown.

“You wore gloves, did you not?” He interrogated, his brows slightly lifting in surprise.

“I did, your Majesty.”

“You seem weaker than other women.”

“Perhaps… I cannot judge on dwarvish women, I barely know any,” I mouthed slowly, carefully weighing every word on my tongue. “I am used to cold, but…” I stopped as my voice broke.

He did not interrupt me, which felt even worse. Instead, he moved closer and leaned in to watch me intently. When he spotted the last traces of a bruise on my cheek, he frowned. I blushed deep red, avoiding eye contact. I felt his one finger under my chin, gently forcing my face up. My chest was filled with heavy emotions ready to burst out at any second by then. He traced the line of my jaw with his thumb, ever so gently, stroking my cheek with a feathery movement.

“I do not wish to see any more bruises on this face or body. It is a shame to waste such beauty for nothing. You must be wise, little one.” He stroked me again, gently. “I do not wish to hurt you, you see. I do not wish to break you. Is it so difficult to just submit to me?” He asked patiently, as if scolding a child. I guess this was the closest he could ever get to just saying I'm sorry, in his own strange way. He smelled of new leather and spices, and it reminded me of the day we had met.

“You… you scared me, my lord. I am sorry for what I did, but I was just too terrified of you.”

“How come? It has been several months since I found you. You should have already forgotten the incident. You have been taken care of. You have home and food, you are safe now.”

Seeing my expression, he asked directly: “Do you fear men?” Such a plain question and such a strong reaction.

‘’Yes,’’ I nodded desperately in between sobs.

He exhaled loudly, never stopping his interrogation. “Did the orc rape you? Answer me honestly,” he asked darkly, clenching his fists now. His gaze hung on my lips but I could not answer. I just could not. He swore and hit the side of the bed angrily. Then he stood up and started pacing around the chamber while I sobbed. His anger made him look savage and unpredictable. After a while he sat down again, more composed.

“Kate, you are so very different. Any dwarvish woman would have already recovered in your place, whatever it is that happened to you. This is not possible.”

“But I'm _human_ _!_ I don`t have your stamina, obviously! I have my bruises and they may last until I die in the first place. I need time, a lot of time, your Majesty. And although I'm trying, I keep on doing things which in your world are understood as mistakes. I'm sorry for that. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do to make things right, but I am the way I am,” I said shakily.

He watched me closely, the storm in his eyes betraying his feelings. He was breathing heavily now. He leaned in menacingly, although I think it was not his intention to frighten me any more. It was the anger rising. He touched my shoulder, the line of my neck and stroked my cheek slowly, consciously. Our faces were now so close I could feel his breath on my ear and heat emanating from him. He remained like that for a few seconds, solid as a statue, and when I did not flinch, he gently nibbled at my earlobe. It sent warm wave through my body, to my surprise.

“No harm will come to you in these halls, Kate,” he whispered in a deep set growl. “I will give you your time. Although, given your quick responses to my advances, I think it might be less time you would consciously choose.”

I gulped at that and he laughed throatily. It was the first time I saw him actually laugh, and it made him look so charming that my heart ached. He pressed a chaste kiss on my lips and straightened his back.

“Now,” he said much more cheerfully, “It took Amarth whole day to convince me to let him examine you. You should thank him for that. He says your hands should heal soon, and I hope they do,” he said, the warm sparkle never leaving his eyes. I realised Amarth did not tell him about his secret visit in the dungeon, but I kept my mouth shut. Thorin looked so boyishly carefree that I did not have the heart to ruin it for him. Or me.

“My fingers still feel numb. I hope he is right. I'm starting to lose faith in elvish medicine.”

“Don`t, Kate. They will get better.” He took my hands in his, careful not to touch the blisters, his palms flat against mine.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yes.”

“May I borrow a book from your library? Any book, really. I`ve spent here so much time alone.”

“And you will carry on in that way, Kate. Your crime is not yet forgotten. But I will do you the favour, yes.”

“Thank you.”

We remained like that for quite some time. We spoke of unimportant things, such as weather in these lands, food available in winter and trade with friendly nations. I tried to explain to him what chocolate tasted like back in Norway, and he said he would have his cook prepare sweets better than my chocolate. I could not believe we could ever have such a nice conversation. This new Thorin felt very refreshing.

He left after about an hour, with half-smile on his lips.

“Rest now,” he said, and I obeyed.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a nice and honest conversation! It was really needed, after all, to make things clear between the two and lighten the atmosphere. Thorin is somewhat slow to understand, it seems! :D I hope it has answered some of your questions regarding why Thorin is behaving the way he is.
> 
> Thanks for all your insightful comments and kudos!


	16. Chapter 16

My days grew long and nights even longer. I nearly forgot how humans (and dwarves) looked as all kept Thorin's orders not to interfere. Thorin did not come back for other two weeks but Dis started appearing instead, and Amarth, who spoke to me again. 

I was astonished when Dis stormed in one day to hand me over a book I was already familiar with:  _ The tales of the dwarvish kingdom. Collected myths, stories and legends of the ancient folks.  _ I was so grateful that I laughed happily at her, thanking her that I would have something to occupy myself with.

I started to eagerly read the manuscript which looked quite old, its pages yellowed with age and letters written in strange shapes, but still readable. It contained various stories which to me sounded like fairy tales, but nice to ponder on. Until I came across a short record of two men who emerged from a lake in Rhovanion during an evil storm to show themselves to astonished native people. It stated it had happened three centuries ago and their further fate remained unknown. I was shocked. Was this just a coincidence? Why did Thorin lend me the book? I decided to learn more when given the chance, but then I remembered the promise I had given to Thorin and my heart sank. No, I cannot do this, I cannot leave even if I knew how to do it. I swore to him. Damn!

xxx

 

It took another week until I was let out of my chamber to resume my morning duties. When Thorin's door opened for the first time after the ages of my solitude, I had a strange deja vu of him peering at me from the entrance, his dark figure against light of the day. I made a small curtsy, keeping my eyes low, greeting the king silently, and he let me in with a slight nod.

I poured fresh water into the washing basin, trying not to spill a drop. I felt his gaze on my back, he did not move nor speak, but I knew he was there, still in the shadows of the early morning. The mountain was  sleepily silent, but I could hear my heart pounding its way out of my chest. I finally finished what I was doing and stood by the toilette table, clean towel hanging from my arm. I waited for him to speak first.

“So, my little slave has returned. How does it feel?”

“Thank you for asking, your Majesty. I am glad I am back. It is better than I would have expected.”

“Of course you are,” he smirked, lowering above the basin. 

I did not answer. Instead, I studied the chamber for any changes. It remained the same, dark and luxurious, suffocating with pompousness and with what I could call a certain sense of weight of the crown. Could there ever be such a thing? An orphaned harp stood where it had been left, with no trace of dust, but still it felt out of place here.

“Umm… Does anyone play it?” I pointed at the instrument after a while of odd silence when he was washing his face.

Thorin looked up at me with a surprised expression. 

“No, I do not play it anymore. Since the dragon. Strangely, it survived all those years. The strings would not be usable anymore, though.” He was studying it, as if trying to remember what it actually was and if it meant anything to him.

“It is beautiful.”

“It once was, aye.” He abruptly turned back to the basin and poured some water over his head. I handed him the towel but he shook his head in disapproval. “Your turn.”

I swallowed and took one step closer to rub the water away from his skin and hair. He stood tall and I could not properly reach where I needed, and he did not even try to make it easier for me. He was playing with me, and obviously enjoying it with a hint of smirk. 

“Come closer,” he advised, and a sudden thought came to my mind. I circled him to step behind his back, indeed closer, and reached out with the towel. I smiled to myself for this little victory, but he growled and pulled me in front him. “Resistant, are we?” he muttered darkly and pulled me even closer, squeezing my shoulders in his iron grip. My breathing quickened, and I felt panic rise once again in my chest, ice cold as the mountain in winter.

“No, please… I’m not…” I whispered, keeping my eyes downcast.

“You have turned pale,” he said, holding me at arms` length to look at me properly, then abruptly loosened his grip. “Go and sit there.” He pointed to the armchair by the window. I obeyed quickly, grateful and relieved, and rested as he had ordered. He walked towards the table, poured water from a large jar in a glass and handed it to me. 

“Drink.” 

I hesitantly took it and swallowed a few sips, trying to compose myself.

“Have you finished the book?” he asked out of the blue, seating himself in the opposite chair.

I blinked. “I have, your Majesty.”

“And?”

“Thank you for it, I enjoyed it a lot. It made me understand a few things about these lands.” I felt a little better, my courage returning to me with every passing second. I wondered where was this charming and warm man I had talked to the last time, and if he would ever show up again.

“Which are?” he lifted his eyebrows.

“Well, your culture, your beliefs. I found one of the stories particularly important…” I looked down at my hands with a pause. He did not ask which one, so I glanced at him and saw his features had hardened, menace written in his eyes. 

Oh, he knew very well what I was referring to. 

“So… if you are asking if I am planning to escape to the lake because of it, then the answer is no. No, I'm keeping my promise. My place is here until you decide otherwise. Although I'd like to explore that possibility, if you allow, of course.”

“You are starting to learn your manners.” The tips of his mouth curved in a half smile.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” 

I have passed the test. This time.

 


	17. Chapter 17

“You need to get used to me, Kate,” were the words which shook me right next morning. I was standing at the open window to let the fresh morning air in, making up the king-size bed, arranging the pillows neatly.

Thorin walked out of his closet with bare chest, throwing his tunic on the bed.

“My lord…”

“It will happen whether you fight it or not, we both know it. The sooner you let go, the better for you. No more excuses.” 

He closed the distance between us in two long steps, reaching out for me as naturally as for a glass of water. He pulled me to him before I could react and forced my arms around his waist. 

“Shhh… I will not hurt you,” he proclaimed in a soothing whisper and stood still, his arms hanging by his hips. I let him go with a silent scream but he grabbed my hands immediately and wrapped them again around his naked waist. 

“Do not make me repeat myself,” he growled, holding me securely in place where he wanted to have me once again. I fought shakily, but he was too strong for me to win this. I panicked and yelled my “Please don’t!” at him, but he squeezed both my wrists with one hand. With the other he patted my hair briefly.

“Do not fight, and I will not advance,” he announced and waited for the words to sink in. He was looking down at me, his head slightly tilted to one side, his eyes searching for the sign in mine that I understood. A waterfall of dark hair cascaded down his shoulder, making him look feral and playful at the same time. I breathed out and gave up my fight, just to try the effect. 

Thorin stood still, eyeing me from his height, and when I did not move for a few seconds, he gently pressed his fingers to the small of my back and pushed me to him so that I was now leaning on him. 

“Better,” he hummed into my hair. It felt very odd, I was not prepared for this delicate show of intimacy. I was still shaking, but when he did not try to touch me in any other way, I just gave in and stood still, taking in his masculine scent and the softness of his skin. I felt his chest move as he breathed, his lips slightly parted as he was watching me - his prey, waiting, and I dared not look up, so I just rested my forehead in the crook of his neck. Silence fell between us, and I was afraid to move or speak, but the solid statue that he had turned into strangely offered comfort and strength I could depend on. My muscles relaxed and I let out out a small sigh of relief before I could consciously stop it.

We remained like this for good two minutes and then he just stepped away to put on his tunic. 

“You may bring in my breakfast.”

I blinked a few times and left for the kitchen, on wobbly legs.

 

XXX

 

We went on like this for the next three days, Thorin making me hold him, but never advancing, and I felt like a frightened animal being tamed, slowly and skilfully, like a mare being hushed and soothed into sweet oblivion until she was eventually saddled and made into a possession with the air of finality. I had to admit that it did feel good, in a sick way, and I started to enjoy the fake intimacy the process offered. I did not flinch nor fight, and Thorin kept his word of not touching me improperly. I realized that I trusted him and willingly came to his arms once he gestured for me to do so, with a knowing and satisfied smile gracing his lips. “Good girl,” he used to say, and my heart trembled with joy of being praised and my body hungrily devoured the touch of his warm skin. Oh, how screwed I was with all my loneliness that these simple gestures and expressions helped to keep at bay!

The days flowed slowly and placidly and I calmed down. It did not last long though, as the still surface of our ordinary days was stirred by a foreign delegation. 

They came from Rohan one early morning, as I was told, to negotiate possible alliance against the common enemy. After the last battle, the orcs have moved south and were much scarcer in numbers in the lands surrounding Erebor. But that posed possible threat to Rohan.

I saw them briefly, men on tall horses and in shiny helmets, riding proudly and erect through the main gate, and my heart started to pound violently at the sight of my own race. They dismounted, the horses were led into the stables to be taken care of, and Thorin and his high-ranking generals came out to meet them and exchange greetings. For the first time I saw Thorin wear his crown and was surprised by how regal and official he looked, exact opposite of his normal attire. This must be something big.

They were staying for several days already, Thorin being out whole day during the negotiations. 

On that particular day, I was performing my duties as normal. I tidied up the king's chambers diligently, and was now sweeping the floor in the corridor where the red carpet did not reach. I heard silent footsteps, and when I turned around, I saw a tall blond-haired man walk by. He glanced at me briefly, and having caught my stare, he stopped and returned in his tracks. He studied me for a few moments suspiciously before speaking:

“I am afraid I do not know you, my lady.” He bowed his head ever so slightly.

“Oh, I'm not a lady, as you can see,” I pointed at the broom with a smile. “My lord,” I added quickly and lowered my gaze. My heart was beating wildly with joy that I was speaking to a human, and was flattered at the same time by his display of respect.

“I see. May I know your name? What are you doing in these dwarven lands? I have not seen here any kin of ours but you.”

I hesitated for a moment. “I`m Kate Evans,” I explained briefly and suppressed the urge to shake his hand. Instead, I bowed slightly, at which he gave an acknowledging nod. “And… I do the cleaning here… basically.” I bit my lip, which did not escape his attention, for he lifted his chin stubbornly and frowned.

“Is something wrong with that, Kate Evans?”

“N-no. I did not catch  _ your _ name...” I tried to change the subject as I felt this was not the proper topic to talk about.

“I am Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark,” he saluted, for a moment turning into the shiny soldier that he was. “Where are _ you _ from and was has led your steps to Erebor? It is most uncommon for humans to serve under dwarf masters in such deep places. And why is your hair shaved off?”

Those were too many hard questions. I inhaled deeply before trying to explain in the most neutral tone. “From far away, my lord. My fate has led me here. And no, I am not a servant, I am a slave, if that is what you wanted to know. And I disobeyed my master once, so...” I rubbed my hands uncomfortably and looked down to check on my nails. I needed to do that right now.

“That is most unfortunate,” genuine compassion softened his features. He locked his dark eyes with mine before asking in a husky voice: “Who is your master?”

“His Majesty.” 

“The King himself?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

Surprised silence fell in the dimly lit corridor and then he nodded. “It was not my knowledge that the dwarves indulged in slavery. But I am sure Thorin would be the most righteous master, by his ways during our negotiations.”

At those words something inside me broke. I did not know what I had been expecting from this stranger, after all. Stupid me. 

“Indeed.”

His scrutinising eyes lingered on me a little longer than necessary but then he just turned and briskly walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fully realise that Éomer was not yet born when this was happening, there are still a few more decades left, but well... He is just too gorgeous to be omitted!
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all, 
> 
> here comes another chapter. Hope you like it :)  
> As always, thanks for your kudos and comments!

I did not see Éomer after that for a few days, until the last evening before the delegation`s actual departure. As far as I overheard, the talks had been a success, and both realms agreed on mutual help and intelligence sharing against the remainder of the orc hordes pillaging the vast plains on the southern borders. 

On that day, Dis stormed in as always to inform me that my presence was needed at the feast to be held tonight. To my question why she explained that a gossip about a human slave in Erebor had spread and the Rohirrim expressed interest in me serving for them tonight. 

“Thorin had agreed to that as a token of goodwill,” she said with an eyebrow lifted high. I swallowed my pride at that and tried to get out of my head the image of me being paraded in front of the foreign soldiers as a caged animal. Nevertheless, Dis sent me to the kitchen where I was instructed how to serve the meals and fill the wine goblets properly. It was not difficult at all, yet I felt nervous for no obvious reason.

 

XXX

 

The feasting hall spread long and vast with its high ceiling and marbled pillars and walls. They shone with hues of the darkest green and grey with golden veins, invoking uttermost beauty and splendour worth the majestic dwarven kingdom, for all foreign eyes to see. The hall breathed with cold, and I shivered involuntarily. At the long table were seated the horse riders, along with dwarven officials and Thorin at the head of it. Éomer to his right at the beginning of the long line, leaning closer to Thorin in silent chatter as they waited for the dinner to be served. He raised his brown eyes when I and the army of servants marched in, and nodded towards me ever so slightly in a silent greeting. I gave a small curtsy in return and then noticed Thorin watching me with a frown. The evening was starting in a strange manner. I swallowed hard and proceeded to serve the meal to Thorin, and then to Éomer and all the others in the line. Soon after that, the general mood had risen, lifted by the delicious food and wine, and the guests hailed and cheered to Thorin with their chalices held high. I smiled at that and finally started to relax. The evening got on the right track. Although, I did my best to be as quick and invisible as possible when refilling their chalices.

Later in the evening, after countless litres of spirits had been drunk, Éomer beckoned to me to bring him wine. I obeyed quickly and when I leaned in to pour it in his goblet, I felt a daring hand rub my buttocks. Shocked, I silently cried out and spilled the remainder of the wine in the jar. I glared at him angrily but what I saw in his glistening eyes made me swallow whatever words came to my mind. There was lust, pure lust and dark hunger but they vanished in a split second once he regained his reason and former elegant behaviour. 

“Look what you have done,” he uttered with a smile, and I managed nothing but saying my ”I`m so sorry” while sweeping the table with my snow-white apron. One quick glance at Thorin, who was watching us intently but did not make an effort to step in. I was wondering if he had noticed.

“This slave of yours is very… unusual,” he said to Thorin lazily, with a half-drunken smile. “How come she has found her place here in the depths of Erebor?”

“I have found her in the wilderness, she owes me,” Thorin replied, composed, not giving in any more details.

“Oh, I see,” Éomer murmured. “Would she be available for selling? I know of a suitable place for her tiny hands.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Back in Rohan. I feel she should return among her own. The sunlight would do her good.” I inhaled sharply and looked at Thorin with pleading eyes.  _ Please don't do it. I will die if this monster gets me. _

“She is not for sale,” Thorin answered matter-of-factly, in a neutral tone, but I could sense icy coldness between the lines. The threatening coldness which meant a storm approaching. I exhaled.

“I quite like her,” Éomer did not give up, circling the top of his goblet with his finger casually. He was thinking of something, as if trying to mouth the correct words. A silent battle in his drunken mind. “Would you consider lending her to me for the night?” I gasped at that, terrified, and my hands started to shake. This is the moral man who rode with his back so straight up on his horse? The paragon of noble ways?

Thorin leant in and frowned even more. More than I even thought possible.

“Marshal, this slave is  _ not _ available for sale nor any other business. She is  _ mine _ ,” he emphasized gravely and beckoned to me, his glare locked with Éomer`s. I hurried to his side, abandoning the wine stain on the table as it was.

“Kneel,” he ordered sternly, and I dared not defy him here and now, in front of the staring audience, which already noticed something was happening and their joyful chatter died down. I knelt down on the floor with my hands folded in my lap and eyes downcast, thanking all the gods for the remainder of my hair which fell into my face and hid the stinging red blush which had spread on my cheeks. Thorin patted me on my head and then reached for a plate. He took a honey cookie and held it in front of my lips. I hesitated for a brief startled moment before I opened my mouth for him, and he fed me like a pet, shoving his thumb in my mouth gently so that I could lick it clean. I did as he wished, playing along in his little game of authority above me, imagining I was not there and this was not happening at all. I didn't know who of the two humiliated me more. But at the same time I was thankful for the known evil which Thorin represented. Better him than the blond pretentious jerk.

“Obedient she is,” Éomer praised and the tip of Thorin’s mouth curved in satisfaction. The chatter rose again as the atmosphere in the hall loosened. No one seemed to be listening any more.

“Not always, but we have sorted that out already. Have we not?” he leaned in to my ear, as if speaking of a nice little secret.

“Yes, Your Majesty,”  I whispered, digging my fingernails deep into my palms.

“Good girl,” he patted me again and then rested his heavy hand at the back of my neck. It felt strangely reassuring. By now I was sitting on my soles between the males, but so close to Thorin that Éomer could not reach me. I think that was Thorin's intention, an elegant solution to a diplomatic disaster. He fed me a few more cookies.

Éomer was watching us from under his heavy lids. “When you get tired of her, think of me.” He reached for his goblet and grinned. “She would still be a good fuck.”

Thorin laughed out but his grip on my bare neck tightened. “You have drunk too much tonight, Marshal. Our wine is strong, you do not know what you are saying.” 

Then he turned to me. “You may go and wait in my chambers,” beckoning to a guard who stood nearby to accompany me. 

I stood up abruptly, and throwing a small curtsy towards Thorin and then Éomer, I hurried out of the hall, followed by the guard. 

I was so freaked out that when I entered the chamber, I pressed my back to the door and had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. I did not hear the guard’s heavy footsteps though, and when I opened the door slightly, he peeked at me from the outside questioningly. I closed it again and decided to light the fire in the large fireplace to keep the darkness of the lonely chamber at bay. Then I lay down on the bed, planning to make it up before I left. For the moment, I was more than happy to be guarded and the king's quiet private chamber offered sweet solace to my nerves which I so desperately needed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all,
> 
> here comes what you have been waiting for. Enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS! Shameless smut with extremely dubious consent and some harder handling! Don`t like, don`t read!

 

_I will have you on your knees_

_And the beast I hold within_

_Shall be fed with your hungering screams_

(lyrics by Dark Funeral)

 

 

 

I awoke in the middle of the night still in Thorin's bed. The peaceful full moon was shining brightly at me from the large window, its silver light spreading quietly across the normally dark chamber. The fire had already died out. I yawned, and still sleepy, realized where I was lying. I stood up abruptly and walked towards the cushioned armchair by the window. I leaned my head comfortably against its back and watched the magnificent windless night in its silence, the shadows of the landscape frozen and not moving. I cuddled further in the armchair, lifting my knees up to my chin, and was thus lulled to sweet sleep.

A soft click of the door made me open my eyes, and then the sound of a key in the keyhole. The door was being locked. Thorin's tall figure stepped into the moonlight, but did not appear less dark. He looked around the room as if searching for something, until his eyes adjusted to the blackness, and I saw his expression change when he spotted me. I realized the moon was shining from behind me so my face must have remained hidden, probably still looking asleep. I quite liked the opportunity it gave me to watch him move unguarded when he thought nobody was watching. He walked towards the bed and took off his upper tunic and boots, leaving all of that casually spread on the ground, then sat on the bed, resting his head in his hands for a good while. He looked tired, his shoulders tense, but there was something strange about him, certain determination, anticipation. He stood up and walked towards my armchair slowly, questioningly. He reached out to touch my hair and cheek, and I realized this was the time I was supposed to wake up.

“Your Majesty,” I jumped, feigning surprise. I stood up quickly and made a small curtsy in a silent greeting. I wanted to thank him for what he did during the evening, but he did not seem to want to start a conversation. Instead, he just nodded, and rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. I could smell sweet wine and scent of leather from him, and it was not an unpleasant sensation. He massaged my shoulder slightly, then moving his attention to the back of my neck, until he finally pulled me towards him as I was already used to. But this time his hand continued to journey across my back until it reached my hip, and I shuddered.

“Your Majesty, I would like to thank you for what you did during...” I said shakily, which earned me his approving grunt while his other hand continued to wander around my behind. “Would you like me to fetch something for you…?”

“It is nothing you can fetch that I want, Kate,” he breathed into my hair, and I shook involuntarily, despite doing my best to fight my rising uneasiness.

All of a sudden, he released me and took a step back. “Now undress,” he said quietly, matter-of-factly. As if it was the most natural thing for me to do in front of him.

I could not believe my ears. “W-what?”

“Un-dress!” came the command in a deep-set growl, and my heart sank at that word. _Oh no, please don't do this._ I stood there shaking, uncertain what to do, terrified not to disobey and get punished once again, and my brain was working feverishly, trying to find a way out of this, find some excuse, anything.

“Your Majesty… I… I'm sorry to ask, but… what is wrong? You said you would give me time...” I blabbered desperately, squeezing my fingers in front of me in a pleading, uncertain gesture.

“Which I gave you. You have run out of it tonight.”

“But… why? What is different? You said- ”

“Do not make me repeat myself for the second time, Kate!”

“But you said you would wait! And I'm honestly doing my best to obey you, Your Majesty… to serve you as I was taught, I'm not even flinching anymore when you are close, is that not- ”

“You are making a good slave, indeed. But you do not _look_ owned!” he growled, and the dark devouring fire which I had once seen sprang in his eyes.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“The foreigner wanted you because you simply look like you do not belong to anybody. I am not contained _in_ you. I cannot let that happen again. You are mine, and everybody needs to know.” He was becoming more and more passionate as he spoke, and when a soft sob escaped my lips at his words, he asked gravely: “Am I really that hideous that you react in such a manner?”

“No, not at all,” I hurried with my assurance before I could think of any consequences. The tip of his mouth rose in a self-satisfied half-smile, and I mentally cursed.

“So?!”

“I'm sorry, Your Majesty… but… but I just can't...” My voice came in a whisper so silent that I nearly could not hear my own words. By now I was shaking all over my body and a huge lump formed in my throat.

He frowned. His large hand grabbed my throat in the violent promise of strangling, his whole body rising as if he grew twice that tall. The transformation was so menacing that my knees went limp under me and I remained standing just because he was holding my neck in his tight grip. That was too much. I clenched my teeth, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, I rolled the sleeves of my dress down my shoulders. He let go off my throat at that and watched me intently, still on guard. After a few other agonizing seconds I pulled the whole dress down to the ground. I held my hands in front of my private parts though, as futile as it may have looked, to cover whatever dignity I was left, and thankful for the darkness which was partially hiding me. My mouth went dry, and I kept my gaze locked on the floor as if it could help me break any contact with him.

He slid his gaze across my body and then stepping closer, he turned me around so that the moonlight shone directly into my face. He cupped my breast and touched the ugly scars on my belly and thigh. And then on my back, those which he had inflicted himself. “What a shame,” he uttered under his breath, his voice deep velvet, and I gulped when he suddenly grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. His gaze lingered on the place where the soft hair grew between my thighs, and lay his palm flat against my lower belly. I shivered and felt warmth spread somewhere deep inside. His middle finger traced an imaginary circle on my sensitive skin. I was panting heavily now, and if it was from terror or pleasure I really did not know.

“Are you a virgin, Kate?”

The terror struck me with full force now. I cried out and fought with all my strength to shake his hands off and get away from him, desperately, as if fighting for dear life. But I could not stand his strong arms which pacified me immediately with their iron grip, forcing my hands once again behind my back in an uncomfortable position, just much more painfully now. I could not move unless I hurt myself.

“Answer me!” he stormed, and I started to sob. He gave me a few more seconds, and when I did not speak, he tightened the grip even more. I cried out in pain, then shook my head in defeat. He snarled at that.

“Were you a virgin _before_ the orc?”

I shook my head once again, hot tears rolling down my cheeks in streams.

“At least I do not need to be gentle with you. I wanted to fuck you the very same moment I saw you out in the wilderness. Naked, all covered in blood, completely helpless and at my mercy. You were exquisite then, my dear. But I do not want to hold back anymore. I have waited for this for too long.” he finished bitterly.

My eyes widened at those cruel words, and I sobbed out my horror-striken ‘Oh no, please don't do this! Please, I beg you!’.

But he had gone too far to stop now. He loosened the grip just a little and spoke nearly tenderly now. “Do not fight, little one, it will only make things worse for you. And these tears,” he paused for a moment to trace their trails with his thumb, “You look even more beautiful with them. More like yourself, stripped to the bone.”

He leaned in and kissed me deep, pressing his whole body against mine tightly, the thin cloth of his tunic rubbing against my naked skin. And under it, the chiselled muscles of his chest and arms, iron-like, and he felt as solid as a mountain peak. At the edge of my horror-striken mind I realized that I would have appreciated this intense magnetism had this been under different circumstances. He pressed his lips on my neck and traced it with his tongue all the way down to my collar bone, then returned eagerly back to my ear to suckle at my earlobe.  He bit me hungrily, and when I cried out, he moaned, utterly enjoying my torment. Then he forced his knee between my thighs, grabbing me by hips and pressing me hard against the dark leather of his thigh. I started my furious struggle with the impossible. He interlocked his fingers with the hair at the back of my head and pulled down, bending my neck low in such a strange angle that I gasped for breath for a few miserable moments. Watching me closely, his lip drawn up to bare his upper teeth, he loosened the grip for just one breath and then pulled back again. My fingers dug in the cloth of his arms in a desperate attempt to stabilize myself, but to no avail. When I ceased to move, he let me breathe freely. And then all over again. Exhausted, after a few tries I gave up and went limp.

“Calmer now?” he smirked. I didn't even try to answer. “Good.”

Having me where he wanted to have me now, he once again grabbed my hips and positioned me so that I had to either stand on my tiptoes or press my clit against his leg. I did my best to maintain the position to avoid him, and while he was distracting me with hot kisses on my neck, I felt my feet inevitably get tired with every passing second.

“Let go,” he finally hummed, and just pressed me down. I let out a pained sob and he breathed in low whisper: ”Good girl. Relax now.”

And he ran his fingers around my skin in light, feathery movements, stroking my hair, down my breasts and belly, and then up my back and neck. I was utterly confused, panting heavily, and when he slid his hot tongue in my mouth, I realized my own tongue was answering him, moving in his circles as if in a dance. He added a few slow movements of his pelvis and I shuddered at the hot wave it sent through my body. I started to sob anew.

Taking no heed of that, he suddenly lifted me up in the air and headed for the bed. I screamed out and kicked him, taking him by surprise. He swore and let me go, but only for a moment, before he yanked me violently and threw me over his shoulder. He strode to the bed and threw me onto the pillows mercilessly. He took a second to take off his tunic, revealing his wide shoulders and smooth upper body. I struggled on my elbows to back away from him, but he was there again to grab me by the ankle and yanked me back. Then he knelt on the bed and pinning my hands above my head, lay down on me full weight, pressing the huge bulge of erection against my thigh. I whimpered under him in distress, my breath once again taken away by his muscular weight. He rose to support himself on one elbow, and with one free hand unbuckled his pants swiftly, not even bothering to take them off. At this moment, his long hair fell on my face in a dark cascade, and it felt so soft against my skin that I stared up at him in surprise. Our eyes met and what I saw in his icy gaze made me shiver - it was the victory of a hunter.

It was this moment that I realized the inevitable. This time I will not escape, no matter how hard I try.

Grabbing my legs, he forced my knees up so that they were now nearly reaching my ears. He planted a few hot kisses on my inner thighs, then took out his huge member and positioned himself in between. He pressed the tip of his stone-hard cock against my entrance and I whimpered in the anticipation of pain.

He moaned. “You`re all wet for me, little one.”

In one deliberate motion, he rammed his entire length into me, causing me to flinch and cry out at the searing pain. He waited for a few seconds to let me adjust to the impossible thickness, which was obviously not enough, and moved several times in a circular direction. Then he pulled his cock out of me and rammed it all the way in again, causing me to cry out even louder. I was sobbing openly now.

“You are so deliciously tight,” he growled in between the thrusts, keeping a quicker but steady rhythm. “You could convince me you are still a virgin.” Embarrassed, violated and in pain, I closed my eyes, turned away and tried to pretend I was not there and nothing of this was happening.

At that he stopped to move. “Look at me,” he commanded sternly.

When I refused to obey, he bit my neck so hard that I gasped, opening my eyes in shock.

Now he decided to lick and pinch both my nipples, and to my utter dismay, despite all the burning pain in my tunnel, I felt a hot ecstatic wave roll over my body, all the way down to my core. I bit my lip to suppress the sudden urge to moan. _I cannot let him know._ He resumed fucking me, only harder than before, sliding in and out of me with all the accompanying wet noises, and by his low grunts I could say he was close to his climax. A few more thrusts and he growled his release into my hair. I felt his cock move and twitch inside of me as he spasmed, riding out his orgasm.

Now he pulled his cock out, and I felt his warm seed spill between my thighs. And then on the clean blanket I had changed in the morning. I was all wet and slithery, and felt dirty in all the possible ways.

Thorin knelt on the bed, still panting, and tilted his head to a side, to look at his work. Teary, ravaged, shaking. Desperate.

“Now that looks better,” he said with a soft smile on his lips, as he gently traced my tear-stained cheek with his finger. “A well-behaving, obedient slave.” And he finally liberated himself from his pants, threw them on the ground, and lay down on his back next to me.

I shakily struggled to sit up. My womb, throat and wrists were all hurting and my head felt dizzy. I put my trembling feet on the floor. _I need to get rid of your seed._

“Where are you going?” Thorin asked leisurely.

I froze. “To wash myself, Your Majesty.”

“You should not roam around Erebor at night alone, not until the horse riders leave today morning. Stay here, Kate.” When I shrank, he added thoughtfully: “I will not touch you again tonight.”  He seemed to actually mean it.

I did not answer. I pondered on his words for a while but was too exhausted to even maintain my sitting position, not to speak about walking or fighting him any longer, so I lay down again on the other end of the bed, as far from Thorin as possible. I covered myself with the blanket and turned my back to him.

After a while I heard his silent breath become steady as he fell asleep. That was when I curled up with my knees up to my chin and started to sob, silently and bitterly. Sharing the king's bed, but still all alone.

 

XXX

 

_The orc was approaching me with an ever increasing speed. I turned around to run, but my feet sank deep in the ground as it devoured me, bit by bit, having turned into a lake of stinking mud. I screamed for help as he neared me, unsheathing his rusty weapon, and as I struggled for dear life to get out of the mud, it only sucked me in more quickly. The orc stood by me now, grinning victoriously, and leaned in to take a closer look at me._

_I screamed my lungs out._

“Wake up, Kate!”

Darkness, absolute darkness in which also the full moon remained hidden behind the clouds.

I felt something near me stir and close in.

I screamed once again and shot out of whatever I was lying on but was immediately pulled back by an invisible hand.

“It was just a dream, Kate! Bad dream. Wake up now!” I heard a familiar voice whisper and then felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing and rubbing me gently as he spoke. I burst into tears and threw myself in the arms of the figure next to me, crying hysterically, shaking violently between the sobs.

“It's the orc again!”

“I know, you spoke from your sleep. Hush now, little one, it was just a dream. Just a bad dream,” he spoke as he closed his arms around me and planted soft kisses on my forehead and eyelids. “All will be good in the morning.”

“But what if he returns?”

“Then I will scare him away and hunt him down to all ends of Arda.”

“Thank you, you are so kind.”

And he lay me down again, whoever he was, pulling me in his tight embrace as he spread on his back. I put my head on his chest, still sobbing, grabbing at his long locks as fits of crying shook me. I heard his steady heart beat powerfully, and was lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> I`m very happy to share with you a piece of fanart painted by Cantrix_grisea based on my last chapter! It makes me incredibly proud and flattered as an author, and proves that it makes sense to go on with the story! I absolutely adore the picture, the colours, the mood... Thank you so much!
> 
> Please be so kind to click on below link and leave kudos and comments for Cantrix_grisea:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705333#main
> 
> As always, hope you`ll like the new chapter!

 

 

I awoke lying on my side. My head was hurting from the crying, my eyelids swollen, and I felt all shattered and in pain. As my blurred mind began to remember what happened at night, I suddenly realised where I actually was, and when I tried to turn around to check if Thorin was still there, I noticed a muscular hand resting heavily around my waist. He was pressed against my body full length and felt very warm in the chilly morning air. I needed to pee. And I needed to wash his juices off me, above all.

Now, wide awake, I wondered how to stand up and not wake him up at the same time. I slightly wriggled but then froze as I felt him breathe out more loudly and his hand stir on my waist. A few more seconds, and to my utmost horror, it silently moved to my hip and traced my thigh. I felt something hard press against my buttocks and I whimpered.

“Lie still,” Thorin whispered in my ear, his voice still hoarse from the sleep.

His large hand cupped my breast and lazily continued all the way down to my stomach.

“Nei, vaer så snill*... I'm sore from yesterday, Your Majesty… ” I tried my luck, and already felt a lump forming in my throat.  _ Not again, please. _

“It will pass,” he hummed, and took my hair out of the way to bare the back of my neck. He pressed his lips to the soft skin and planted on it a few slow kisses, taking his time with me. 

At my second unsure “Please don't”, he laughed out, and to show me how irrelevant my pleas were, just flipped me over to my back and supporting himself on one arm, continued to explore my body. He laid his palm flat against my intimate parts and leaned in to kiss me.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Thorin swore and never letting go off me, shouted: “What?!”

From behind the door came a hushed guard`s voice: “Marshal of the Riddermark wishes to speak to you before they depart, Your Majesty.”

There was a dark sparkle in Thorin's eye as he looked down at me. He ran his finger through my hair absent-mindedly, pondering on the possibilities of the encounter. Then he smirked and whispered his “Stay here,” as he pulled the blanket up to my neck. He stood up abruptly, grabbing his leather pants from the floor where he had left them yesterday, and put them on. I watched his naked torso move in the dim morning light, the chiseled muscles of his upper arms working, but then averted my gaze bitterly.

“Bring him in!”

The guard`s footsteps echoed in the hall as he walked away. And then once again, the sound doubled, stopping in front of the door. Thorin unlocked and opened it wide, standing in the gape as a tower with his chin proudly outstretched. 

“Marshal.”

Éomer, clad in full armour, stared at Thorin from under his high silver helmet. He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes but struggled it with a certain dignity, now that he regained his former regal countenance. His gaze slid from half-naked Thorin towards me lying on the bed. He swallowed hard.

“Thorin. You did not come down to see us off. I wonder if it was because of the last night or because we are leaving this early,” he paused for a second, and when Thorin did not reply, he continued his speech. “I wish to part with you in friendship, for the sake of both our realms. Let me assure you I remain Lady Dis` humble servant.”

“The friendship stays as it was, Éomer. No disruptions.” Thorin smirked, glancing towards me over his shoulder.

“I am glad to hear that. May I apologise to your slave as well?”

Thorin nodded briefly and stepped away to unblock the entrance. Éomer walked in the chamber and strode towards the bed, his footsteps heavy, his armour clinking as he walked. I shrank under the blanket, feeling my cheeks turning deep red. To my utter astonishment, he knelt on one knee and bowing his head, spoke to me.

“I am sorry for my behaviour last night. I did not mean to insult you, nor do any harm to you. I deeply regret that, my lady.” And before I could open my mouth to speak, he took my hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle manner. “I shall be forever grateful if you forgive me.” He let my hand go and waited with his head bowed.  _ Oh fuck, just like some Lancelot. _

“Yes… umm, I mean… I accept your apology.” What a diplomatic answer.  


He immediately stood up, bowed his head slightly, and walked out of the chamber. He turned around at the door and glanced back at me and then at Thorin.

“I wish you well. May both Mahal and Béma* protect you.”

“Fare well, Éomer. We shall meet again soon under merrier circumstances.” 

“Aye.” Éomer nodded and strode away. I could hear the echo of his heavy footsteps as Thorin closed the door again, smirking. 

“I would not wish to be in his shoes now, with such a hangover. What a pleasant journey he will have,” he said nonchalantly while grabbing his boots from the floor where he had left them the night before. He entered his closet and after a while walked out dressed in a fresh dark blue tunic over linen pants.

“You may dress now.”

As I stood up tiredly to do as he had said, he strolled to the table and reached for a carafe. He poured some wine mixed with water into a tall chalice and drank eagerly. Then he refilled it and turned towards me. 

“Drink.”

I dressed in my rumpled dress as quickly as I possibly could, happy to finally have some clothes to cover myself with. Then I took the offered chalice from his hand. I hesitated briefly before bringing it to my cracked lips. Wine on an empty stomach, never a good choice. But then again, why not.  _ Screw it. I need it anyway. _

Thorin was watching me intently from under his lashes as I drank. When I emptied the glass, he took it from me and lay it on the table. I looked at him questioningly.

“You can take the bath you asked for last night. Come,” he said placidly as he opened the door and motioned for me to join him. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nei, vaer så snill. - Please don`t. (Norwegian)  
> Béma - the Rohirrim venerated the Vala Oromë the Hunter, whom they called Béma


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings to all!
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to Cantrix_grisea.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it and that it will make your beginning of the week more pleasant *winks suggestively*  
> Please leave comments :)

Not knowing what to expect, I followed him hesitantly through the corridor. At the end, he turned to the left and then several more times until we reached a distant passage I had not visited before. It was all dark stone with silvery veins but the walls were rough and any carpet was missing. I was wondering what he meant by a bath, so far I had seen no bathtubs in whole Erebor as far as I could go. I only washed myself in a wash basin during my stay.

Finally, Thorin stood in front of large, ordinary-looking door. He opened it with a creak and a wave of hot humid air steamed out from the inside. He stepped in and turned back to me with his hand outstretched: 

“Come in, Kate, you will like it.”

What I saw first in the room were three large pools sunken in the ground in what reminded me of the ancient Greco-Roman style, with stone stairs leading down inside. The floor was of polished stone tiles of sandy shades such as the walls, and as I stepped in barefoot, I realised in astonishment it was all warm as if underlain with underfloor heating. There were a few shelves with bath necessities scattered around the room. The air was filled with warm, intoxicating incense, and natural light was coming in from some hidden source. 

I exhaled. Such pampering beauty in such a harsh place! For a moment I forgot my troubles and drank in the soothing atmosphere.

“I didn't know something like this existed in Erebor,” I uttered under my breath, my eyes fixed on the nearest pool on which rim lay a few filigran bottles of what looked like precious oils and bars of soap. I could swear I smelled subtle scent of roses even here.

“The pools are filled with thermal water, we have a few springs originating here under the mountain. And, of course, the River Running,” he paused as he grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf. “They are of real value especially in winters such as this. The waters are then used for heating in the lower chambers. They are allowed to circulate until they thoroughly cool. A true masterwork of our builders,” Thorin explained proudly.

I knelt next to the closest pool impatiently and sank my hand in it. It was very hot and I immediately withdrew it with a grin.

Thorin smiled. “Try the one in the middle. They are of different temperatures.”

I took a few steps to the right and sank my foot in the water. It felt pleasantly warm, and I suddenly no longer cared who was present at that moment. I took off my dress in a second, threw it on the ground and walked down a flight of steps into the pool. I waited a few more seconds to adjust to the temperature and then fully submerged into the water, withholding my breath. Dull, echoing silence embraced me, and I enjoyed it to the fullest. 

When I reluctantly resurfaced and wiped the water from my eyes, I saw Thorin had already entered the same pool. He was leaning against the pool wall with his eyelids half-closed, his hair and skin all wet, resting, not seeming to care about me. I decided to ignore him and enjoy this treatment as much as I possibly could. I walked towards the far end rim and took a soap which lay there prepared along with neatly piled towels and sheets of various sizes. I turned my back to Thorin and indulged in carefully washing my skin, my hair, my womb. I took particular care in cleansing the latter. I submerged once again in the water and took my place opposite the stairs into the pool, as far from Thorin as possible. Then I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of total void in my head. I felt the wine I had drunk a few moments ago hitting my head, the effect boosted by the heat of the bath. I hummed to myself in silent approval.

I heard the water splash, and when I opened my eyes again, Thorin was standing in front of me with wide grin on his face. Slowly, he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, ever-so-gently. I shuddered, and he tucked a strand thread of my hair behind my ear. The little gesture was so intimate and caring that I wondered if this was the same man as last night.

“What do you want from me? What do you  _ really _ want?” I shot honestly without thinking.

He withdrew immediately and our gaze locked for a few long seconds. He blinked a few times, then leaned in again so close I could feel his breath on my skin, and said, his eyes deeply penetrating me.

“I want you to spread your legs for me willingly, freely, and enjoy it as much as I do.”

My breath hitched in my throat and it took a lot of effort for me to remain calm. “You know I can't do it.”

“Yes you can. And you will.” He played with my wet hair as he spoke, so close now he literally pinned me to the pool wall. His powerful body pressed against mine in the hot water. 

“How do you want it this time, Kate?”

“I don't want it at all,” I whispered.

“Do not lie to me. How do you want it this time, I asked.”

He pressed against me even harder, placing both of his hands on the pool rim, having me trapped in between.  _ Alright then, _ I thought desperately.  _ So be it. Maybe I will be lucky to finish it before it even starts _ . And without a warning, I grabbed his mighty erection and started to stroke it fervently, up and down, mechanically, shamelessly and efficiently. He moaned in surprise and stopped whatever he was planning to do, enjoying my attention with his eyes closed and lips parted. More sure now, I started to stroke him faster, and that was when he opened his eyes and tilted his head in a sudden realisation.

“Oh no, not this way, sweet one.” He groaned, liberating his member from my grip and placing my hand around his waist. “Let me rephrase my question. What do you want  _ me _ to do to  _ you _ ?”

I shuddered once again. I looked up at him, in his sky-blue eyes now darkened with determination and the air of finality of his decision, and knew nothing more could be done, not even this time. I felt the intoxicating effect of the wine combined with sleep deprivation, the warmth of both Thorin towering above me, radiating strength and health, and the water infused with precious oils, and I was so exhausted that suddenly my head felt dizzy and I no longer cared. I swallowed hard.

“Be gentle. Be as gentle as you can, please.” I heard myself say against all reason, as if from a distance, and could not believe the pleading, unsure voice which had spoken the invitation belonged to me.

“No more fighting?”

I just shook my head tiredly. At that, he leaned in and claimed my mouth, slowly, deeply, passionately, taking his time with me. His hands wandered around my body in large circles and I felt myself melting as an ice cube thrown into fire. A soft moan escaped my lips and he groaned into my mouth at that. He withdrew and placed butterfly kisses on my neck and ears, and it was so hard to resist the sensations it sent through my core that I shivered and dug my nails deep into his skin. He looked deep into my eyes and without a warning lifted me in the water so that it came splashing out of the pool, pressing me against the wall with a low gurgling grunt. I whimpered in distress, but he kissed my lips gently.

“I will not enter you now, trust me.” He waited for a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then added. “Just wrap your legs around me.”

Hesitantly, I did as he said, and he rubbed against my intimate parts, slowly and self-cautiously. His wet hair got in between our lips as he pressed them again against mine and I brushed it away with my free hand, feeling my last conscious blocks dissolving in the thick humid air. 

_ Screw it, screw it all. I don't care, just for now.  _

He continued to caress me, here and there planting soft kisses on my shoulder and along the collarbone, his narrow hips rested against mine, foreshadowing what might be coming later, still and unmoving, only occasionally suggesting a slight thrust forward. I realised my breath quickened and was coming in shallow gasps now, and I wondered how long he will be able to withhold his suppressed desire. He was squeezing me with more force now and his face turned to the mask of terrible, all-devouring hunger. His teeth were bruising my lips as he kissed me, and at one moment I whimpered in pain. At that, he withdrew from me, panting heavily, scrutinising me for a brief moment, and I thought that was the moment he would take me with full force. Instead, to my utter astonishment, he let go off me, putting my legs carefully back on the tiled pool floor, and lifted himself out of the pool, supported only by his arms. He rested for a few moments with his head slightly bowed as if to compose himself, then he stood up and walked to a shelf from which he grabbed a large towel. He carelessly rubbed himself dry, then took another one along with a bottle of what looked like some oil and walked back towards me. I noticed his massive erection even from here as he strode, his wet hair flowing down his muscled wide arms and chest. There were also a few scars and the latest, already healed nasty wound, which reached from under his armpit straight down to the ribs. The memory of the last battle. I had actually never seen him all naked in full light, and my breath hitched at the embodiment of the manly beauty.

Aware of my wide stare, he squatted by the pool with a self-conscious smirk. He took me by hips and arms and in one powerful movement pulled me out of the pool, backwards, so that I lay on my back on the tiled floor. It was surprisingly warm and reminded me of a tepidarium used in modern sauna worlds. I let my body absorb the dry warmth as my tense muscles started to relax, along with a few strokes of Thorin's hand around my face, breasts and belly. Then he pulled me to a sitting position, and to my surprise, reached out for the second towel to rub me dry. Gently, soothingly he brought it to my face, hair and body, and did not stop until my legs and feet were dry too. He gestured for me to make room between my thighs, and I obeyed. Without even looking, he pressed the towel gently at my womanhood, never breaking the eye contact with me. The softest moan escaped my lips and he smiled with satisfaction. I felt blood rise into my cheeks.

“Have no shame, my sweet one,” he whispered under his breath before licking at my neck. Then he gently pushed his hot tongue inside my ear, playfully, and this time I moaned loudly at the sensation and to my utter dismay, realised my thighs were shaking violently from the desire. I could not hold it away from him anymore, and he knew it full well.

He reached out for the bottle, poured a few drops of its contents into his palms and rubbed them together. He then brought them to my shoulders and ran his fingers across my muscles, here and there giving a few light squeezes. The moisture was indeed scented oil, relaxing and intoxicating at the same time, and I could swear I felt in it subtle tones of a rose, lavender and some exotic flowers I did not recognize. He slowly pushed me back to lie on the floor. His hands continued their journey along my breasts, belly and down to my legs, and I shivered as he traced my feet and soles and massaged them softly, applying extra oil.

The king tending to his slave`s feet, how absurd.

Then he returned upwards, and spreading my legs gently, let the oil drop on my clit and flow further down to the floor. He brought his index finger down and traced my core with one feathery movement. At that, my back arched high and I moaned loudly, digging my fingernails in my palms. This earned me his deep-set growl, as he pushed the bottle aside, and mounted me quickly, settling himself between my wide-spread thighs. 

I no longer cared. I no longer thought. All I knew was I wanted my release, the little joy I believed I had earned after the long months of fear and inner pain, and if this joy was to come from Thorin, my goddamn captor, then so be it. 

He leaned in to ravish my mouth hungrily, then withdrew to take a good look at me, spread under him, a willing, waiting woman with passion in her eyes, and his features softened for a brief moment, before turning fiercer again. Holding my hips in place with one hand, with the other supporting himself, he placed the tip of his erection against my core and entered me in one strong, resolute movement. I gasped at the sudden intrusion, but he stopped briefly to wait for my walls to adjust to his enormous size. Then he resumed his movements and claimed me in long, deep and slow thrusts, his features all lust and passion finally unleashed. I was still sore from the last night, and the subtle burning pain reminded me very well of how very different the act felt this time, for as he continued to move inside of me, the pain subsided and turned into a brand new feeling - ecstasy in wild abandon. I writhed and moaned under him, as his thrusts became deeper and faster, his own breath coming along with growls as he rode me, the beast in him never taking over the control, as was seen in his determined features. At one moment he looked down at me and grunted:

“Come for me, my sweet one.” 

And he bit me in the neck, more teasingly than fiercely, as he continued to ride me, and I felt my climax approaching rapidly. A few more powerful thrusts, and a hot wave of sweet pleasure rolled over me as I came wildly, washing away all my distress, fear and anger which had built in me over the months, and I released a loud tortured cry. Never giving me time to recover, he lifted my legs high above my hips to support them on his shoulders and rammed his cock inside me once again, thrusting in and out wildly, claiming his ownership of me. Finally, he growled deeply and came hard into me, and I felt his cock throb and twitch in my tight tunnel. Then he stilled and remained nestled between my legs for a few moments, resting on me, panting. 

Finally, he stroked my cheek with his thumb and pulled out, seating himself next to me. I rolled over to one side with my back to him, still panting, powerless, exhausted, pleased and utterly lost in a thousand contradictory emotions. Tears stung in my eyes, and I did not know why exactly I was crying this time. 

This man. I loathed him and at the same time was thankful for the joy he had just brought to me, however insane it sounded.

He interrupted my train of thought by whispering from behind my back: “You will have to take another bath, it seems.” 

I glared at him. 

“You too!” forgetting I was actually being rude to the king, but did not care. 

He did not seem to be bothered by that as he stood up and strode towards the pool. I struggled to a sitting position, my head even more dizzy than before, then stood up clumsily, realising my legs were shaking.

Seeing that, without a single word, Thorin returned to me, lifted me in his arms and carried me into the pool, watching his steps carefully not to slip. There, to my utter shock, he washed me himself, bringing the cloth gently between my thighs, cleaning thoroughly the remains of our encounter, and I could not help the feeling he was thus making up for the horrors of the last night. 

Did he feel guilty though? I could not tell.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all,
> 
> I`m very happy about your reactions to the last chapter :) Hope you like the following ones just the same :)  
> I`m once again attaching Thorin and Kate fanart painted by Cantrix_grisea. Lovely!

 

 

Right thereafter, Thorin led me to the dining room. I asked him if I could instead go to my chamber and get some sleep but he insisted that I eat first. I followed him to the room on the highest floor from where I used to take the breakfast for him. It used to be empty at early dawn, but this time I was taken aback to meet Dis who had been seated at the far end of the table. Her eyebrow rose as she saw us enter the room side by side, our hair all wet, and the expression made her resemble Thorin so much that I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Sister! Good morning,” said Thorin, smiling. He walked towards her and bent down to kiss her cheek.

“Thorin, good to see you! Join me and make up for your neglecting me all those mornings past,” she smiled back at him, pointing to a few empty chairs. Thorin chose the one opposite her and sat down heavily.

“Would you mind a little company? My little slave would like to join us for breakfast,” he said playfully and gestured for me to come closer. I slightly bowed towards Dis.

“Of course, good morning, Kate. Come and sit down.”

“Good morning, my lady.”

There were three free chairs separating the siblings, and I chose to sit on the one in the middle, right in between them. I folded my hands in my lap and watched them in a silent, tired anticipation, hoping we would finish soon so that I could retire.

Thorin reached for a richly decorated plate and as a darwish maid marched in balancing other plates full of delicacies in her arms, he ordered her to bring me strong coffee first. The maid bowed and disappeared immediately. She was back in a minute, placing in front of me a cup of freshly brewed coffee, and an empty plate so that I could choose whatever I wanted. I put two spoons of sugar in it and inhaled the aroma deeply. My first coffee after… how long was it, after all? I could not remember.

The royal siblings continued in an agreeable chatter, but I did not listen to them. My stomach was all shrunken, so after a while I just tried a few sips of my coffee. It tasted most delicious, and an unwanted memory of me and my friends sitting in my favourite cafe back in Bergen flashed in front of my eyes. My past life. It was now that it was out of reach that I could finally appreciate it, the little unimportant choices I could enjoy freely, and my problems which at that time looked enormous, were but futile issues of a spoiled child.

“ - how pale she has turned. You should not be that demanding, Thorin. Have some mercy on her.”

“You do not need to worry, sister. It is nothing a few more hours of sleep would not make up for. Besides, she is learning quickly. I do not think any more harder handling will be needed.”

I lifted my eyes from the steaming coffee. Are they really discussing me as if I was not there listening? Decency of the Durins was certainly not something I could count on. But right now, I did not really care. The sounds and images came to me as if through a thick haze, owing to the wine, my troubled and exhausted mind, and all I wanted was to just be released and shut myself out in my chamber and make the whole world disappear for at least a millennium. And, most importantly, come to terms with the recent events.

“Oh no, I know you too well, Thorin, you are enjoying this too much. Have her rest properly, have her eat properly, show her how kind you can be, how we all know you. Do not let her wither and or die trying to escape again, you do not want that, after all.”

Thorin was listening to his sister with a slight frown, but he appeared not angered, but rather amused by her scolding.

“You speak as if you were older than me, Dis,” he smirked, reaching out for another piece of cheese. Then he waved her complaints away. “As I said, she is making good progress and just needs time to process it all and adapt. Do not worry about that. What needs to be dealt with though are her nightmares. She is deeply troubled, even after all this time.” He glanced at me briefly before turning to his sister again.

How the hell did he know?! I had not spoken of them to anyone, there was no way he could have… 

“What nightmares?”

“Of the orcs attacking. I doubt she will ever sleep peacefully unless she gets over those. She woke up thrice last night screaming. It has been more than six months since I brought her here, sister, that is not a good sign at all.”

“Oh,” Dis threw a sympathetic glance at me. “There should still be a way to help her cope with her past.”

“Perhaps.”

“Teach me how to fight.” My palm shot up to my mouth immediately to cover it. I had not realized what I was saying before I uttered the quick words.

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Thorin spoke again, surprised.

“The art is not taught to everybody that simply, and especially not to the lower ranking subjects. What do you expect from it, Kate?”

“To be able to defend myself, under any circumstances, Your Majesty. If you grant me that wish, I would like to at least try.”

“Let her try, Thorin, it will do her good,” Dis rushed in to help.

Thorin took a deep breath and then, having come to a conclusion, said thoughtfully.

“Very well, fight what you fear, Kate. Face the enemy within and turn your pain to hate, it will make you stronger. It might even help you regain your courage.” He paused for a long moment, his eyes turning to a distant point of his past which I could not reach nor comprehend. They flickered with a dark consuming fire before it died out again. “I will have somebody teach you how to fight. After all, you have earned it. With a sword, perhaps, or a sax, the axe would be too heavy for you. What do you say to that? A sword or a sax, which one do you prefer?” He leaned in as he shook off his memories, the tiny flame of amusement springing in his eyes now.

My jaw dropped. The first actual thought was “ _ Whatever small to help me stab you in the heart at night _ ” but naturally, I had to swallow it. What came out of my mouth was what they had expected, I think.

“I do not know what a sax is, Your Majesty.”

“A broad-blade knife, or a short sword, depending on its length. It is a better choice for your tiny hands.”

“Then let it be the sax, thank you,” I answered blankly, hunching over my cup once again. Whatever, really. But I already felt the boosting effect of coffee as the cloud over my mind started lifting.

Dis laughed out amused, pushing a plate with a few pieces of cake in front of me as she spoke. “This reminds me of  _ my _ first lesson back when I was ten. I like the sax, it is a small weapon but deadly nonetheless. You will learn to fight like a dwarvish warrior, Kate, what an honour!”

I managed a tired smile at her. “Oh, is it?”

“Of course! And have some cake, dear, you need to eat something,” she urged me, bringing her cup of tea to her lips.

The conversation had turned again to some unimportant topics for which I was grateful. At least they did not pay any more attention to me and I could enjoy the meal. After I had eaten everything from the plate which Dis pushed in front of me, Thorin gracefully dismissed me. 

“Go and have some rest. I will not expect your service tomorrow morning, so you may sleep longer and recover your strength.” I thanked him and as I did my curtsy before leaving, he added: “From now on, you may use the baths freely and without any company.”

At this, my heart jumped with joy, and I sent him a genuine smile, because it really made me happy. After how long, I could not remember. Perhaps I had become too numb to certain feelings, this is what Erebor made of me.

“Thank you so much!” I made another curtsy, not knowing how else to thank him. It is so strange that these little acts of kindness can make such a big difference, and now I was more than ready to welcome them, parched as I was for humanity.

He smiled back at me, the carefree and enchanting young expression returning once again to his features, but then he waved me away impatiently, obviously having something else on his mind to be discussed with his sister. 

Just after I crossed the threshold, he returned to her, his voice was grave as he offered a strange solution:

“You have certainly heard of the events at the feast. We do not have to do this, Dis, there is still time to take back your word before the preparations begin. I will not have you unhappy for the rest of your life.”

“But what other choice do we have, Thorin?”

“We can still find some other ally, albeit from a longer distance,” he spoke softly.

“You know there are no other suitable options, unless you want me to marry an elf. Oh no, do not tempt me, not now that I have finally said yes. He might still be a barbarian who dares to bully slaves, but he will not dare to intimidate a lady. And if something goes wrong, I will return, he cannot hold me there by force. For the sake of Erebor. I might even have children once again...” she stopped as her voice broke.

“Dis… ” 

I did not hear more as the rest of the strange conversation died out when I hurried away through the dimly lit corridor.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> here comes another chapter, hope you `ll like it, although there is not much Thorin this time. But it needed to be done.
> 
> I`m a little slower writing these days, also because I used to write at work when there was nothing to do (haha, at least I didn`t waste my time), but recently the circumstances changed a little. Don`t worry, I`m not abandoning the story or anything, I definitely need to finish it for myself and for you as well :)
> 
> Also, I have established a tumblr account - for those interested in some nice pics.  
> https://satiah81.tumblr.com/
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments :)

I slept for long hours on that day, making sure not to engage in overthinking the recent events. I spent the whole day in the bed in a hazy mist, ate what Dis had ordered to be brought to me, occasionally tossing and turning when the merciful dreams left me. When I woke though, images of Thorin's naked body sprang in front of my eyes, I could feel his taste in my mouth, my skin remembering his ardent touch vividly, and I felt both lost and torn between disgust over his advances and the reaction of my body which had betrayed me in spite of how much I fought it. The anticipation of what else was to come haunted me. After all, I had experienced intense pleasure in his arms. For this, feelings of utter shame sneaked in, anger for his impatience and my own character being so terribly fearful, and by the evening I was so overwhelmed by all this that I decided to stop the self-pitying accusations and direct my mind to something more stable to hold on to.

I would learn how to fight, use whatever chance they gave me to practice self-defence, maybe even offense. Perhaps Thorin was right, perhaps I could turn the fear of orcs into hate, at least I would rid myself of my inner pain and react more quickly in danger, if any should occur. It was not his fault what had happened to me, but it was his fault to take me. Then I once again remembered my pleasure under his body, and clenching my fists, I swore.

Screw it, I can't go on thinking in these circles or I will go mad. I actually had only a very few chances to make any choice since I had entered Erebor, so I must not feel any shame for anything. Thus I locked the topic in a leaden box at the back of my mind. Perhaps I will open it later when I feel better. Not now.

On the next morning, Dis, now once again in a cheerful mood, announced that I was about to attend my first lesson. She led me down a few staircases, to a large oval room especially equipped for fighting and combat, on its rugged stone walls hanging numerous weapons of all shapes and sizes - massive axes, one- and two-handed swords, broad knives, spears - and leather and metal armour and helmets displayed on stands all around in a safe distance. I was surprised to see Dwalin standing and waiting for me in the centre of all this. Dis blinked at me and left with a mischievous smile, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

I swallowed and stepped in to greet Dwalin.

“So… which one is mine?” I looked around the room, turning eagerly to the largest knives and swords I saw on one side.

Dwalin, dressed casually in dark green linen pants and woolen tunic - which ostentatiously showed his disinterest in the training - grinned and motioned for me to come with him. He strode heavily towards a large wooden chest and opened it for me. His earring caught light from a torch hanging on the wall and flashed at me angrily.

“Pick one.”

I peeked in the chest and my smile froze. “Are you kidding me?” 

“I don't know what kidding means, lass, but if you mean that I'm jesting, then no. I'm dead serious. Pick one.” 

With a sigh, I produced out of the chest the first wooden sword I had grabbed. They were all wooden toys, light and safe, and I felt like a child with it in my hand. I squeezed the handle and tried to sway the weapon in the air a few times just to get the idea. It felt ridiculous though and I turned away from Dwalin to cover my bitter disappointment.

Taking no heed of that, Dwalin grabbed a sword of approximately the same size as mine, weighed it in his large hand, and stepping into the centre of the room, explained matter-of-factly. 

“You will start with the toy, lass. Later, when I see you are ready and don`t hurt yourself, I will give you a real sax. This is the handle, this is the blade. Well, if it was a real weapon,” he smirked for himself and continued. “The guard, the pommel. Let's begin now.” 

 

XXX

 

The lesson took about an hour and it left me breathless and worn out. I was not used to physical exercise and the wooden weapon was light at the beginning, but grew heavy as I waved with it in circles as Dwalin instructed me. I grew to understand why the wood was his first choice for me, for I dropped it several times by accident and it fell directly on my feet or slided down across my skin. I found it difficult to handle it with my numb fingers. Dwalin did not look very pleased, but I decided to stick to my plan and carry on with the lessons, no matter how he thought them useless and waste of his time. I will show them I can stand for myself.

By the evening I knew I would soon have a huge muscle fever, so I used my newly-given right to bathe. The room was empty and nobody disturbed me while I submerged in the hot water to relieve my sore body of the tension which kept building during the day. I was wondering who else had access here except Thorin and made a mental note to ask Dis about it when I next meet her. 

I looked at my fingers, brought my hand into a fist and then relaxed it, trying to increase the blood circulation. Perhaps the hot water will help. 

Will I ever heal thoroughly, with no scar or any consequence left? Like any wound, seriously?

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out, hope it was worth the waiting!
> 
> Some more smut, please!
> 
> Be so kind to leave comments, they make my day :)

The next morning greeted me with weak gleam of the sun rays sneaking in through my tall and narrow window. I could feel the spring approaching painstakingly slowly, yet still approaching, as the sun rose up on the sky considerably earlier than the last week. I clung to the promise of brighter days and the hope for the future in this forsaken kingdom.

I stood up abruptly and peeked into the mirror at the pale face which looked somewhat familiar. I washed my face, splashing some water here and there, and studying my reflection once again, I brushed my hair away from my face with my fingers. The hair on the left side was still very short, just starting to reach my ear, but growing rapidly, and I still looked like a boy from that perspective. Without thinking, I braided the right side in a high French braid so that it fell over my right shoulder. The whole hairstyle looked rather uneven, but when I thought about it again, I found it pretty practical for my sword-fighting lessons, the hair would not fall in my face and shield my sight. For a brief moment I felt like a proud warrior princess from a TV show I used to watch back at home, and it made me feel a little better, however childish the idea was. Until now I used to wear my hair loose to cover what could be covered - I still felt the stinging shame for my punishment as the dwarves threw accusing glances at me when passing me by in the long corridors. An unworthy slave. Well, let them see my unworthiness now, I don't care.

 

XXX  


 

I knocked on the door as usual. And as usual, Thorin opened it wide for me, letting me in with a graceful gesture of his hand. He stood there tall, wearing only his pants, and his messy hair fell over his shoulders in a dark cascade just in state in which he got out of the bed. 

His chamber breathed with early morning easiness and as I opened the window to let the brisk air in, I spotted a few places on the ground where the snow had melted, uncovering last year`s grass on the rocky base. I watched the scenery while Thorin went through his morning routine, and by the end I realized I was actually smiling.

“You look much different today,” Thorin stated as he took the towel from my hands to rub his face.

“In which way?” I inquired leisurely, forgetting to address him properly.

“Certainly better, and it is not about the hair. Although, I have to say, it looks unusual - but you seem to have to come to terms with it. It is more about how erect you walk and what you emanate. I wonder where the change has begun. With your first fighting lesson, the right for a proper bath or your first climax with me?” He teased, his warm eyes sky-blue and sparkling with amusement. He handed the towel back to me.

“It could be any or all of them,” I answered evasively and already felt the blood rise into my cheeks. My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the towel before me, suddenly all nervous.

“Now, now, now. Why are we blushing? Mmmm… I think I already know the answer,” he purred, a self-satisfied smirk spreading on his handsome face.

He reached for the buckle on his pants and pulled them all the way down. He was standing before me all naked now, breathing desire towards me that felt almost palpable. A man full of energy on an early morning.

“Let us explore it then.”

He stepped closer and I found myself backing from him, nearly stumbling backwards a few pitiful steps as he was approaching me, until I hit the wall with my back. He held the direct eye contact, as he finally reached me and pinned both of my hands above my head against the wall, gently but firmly. He lifted his chin in a playful, satisfied way as he uttered silently:

“Oh no, don't you dare to return to your defying me, we had an agreement. You don't fight me, I don't force you. I expect you to stick to that and continue where we were left last time.” 

I desperately nodded, looking away from him, and he immediately took advantage of my lips, still pinning my hands above me, his whole body pressing against mine. My head started spinning as he shoved his hot tongue in my mouth, never giving me time to close it from him or turn away. I was trapped between his arms as if between solid rocks ripped from the mountain, but this time felt myself melting more easily, and when he let go off my hands to cup both my buttocks hungrily, I silently moaned.

“There you go,” he breathed into my hair, his voice so low I could barely understand him. “Although, I'm afraid I can't give you enough time today. You will have to forgive me for now, little one.”

And all of a sudden, he lifted me in the air, pushing between my thighs and holding me against the wall with extra force his heightened passion gave him. I held on to him tightly, instinctively, trying desperately not to fall down, and at the back of my mind found it surprisingly satisfying. Men never lifted me in the air, I was quite tall for them to do that. Thorin did it. But the train of thought was interrupted when he suddenly pushed my panties aside and rammed his length in me with a low growl. I cried out and tears stung in my eyes at the searing sensation. But he did not seem to care - tilting his head backwards, he began to thrust in me mercilessly and rhythmically, thoroughly consumed in his own pleasure.

“Slow down… please... ” I whispered and sought to make him look at me. His eyes swam in unknown lands by now, his features all distant and loosened in his wild abandon, and as he locked them with mine, I saw in them arise the light of recognition before it died out again.

“No, little one, not this time,” he turned me down instead and continued to slide in and out of me, now with a little more ease as my walls started adjusting to his size. He kept his punishing rhythm clearly on purpose, bouncing in me fervently, and in between the thrusts, to my astonishment, I felt my juices flowing down my thighs, an evidence of how my body enjoyed what he was doing to me, against all reason. Suddenly, I found myself panting heavily, unable to move in this position and completely under his control, and just as the sweet hot wave started rising in me, he growled and emptied his seed in me, digging his fingers in my flesh at that.

He pulled out of me immediately and put my feet back on the floor. Whatever it was that had possessed him, was gone by now. I leaned against the wall, panting heavily, then bent down a little with a frustrated sigh, to compose myself and get some air in my system. I felt Thorin`s warm cum running down my thigh in a thick lazy stream. Just a few more seconds…

“Take off that useless underwear,” came his stern command now. “And never wear it again in my chambers, is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I whispered shakily and immediately took off my panties. 

“The dress as well.”

I did as he said, pulling my dress down with shaking hands and leaving it on the floor. I stood there all naked now, full of anticipation of what was to come.

“That is much better,” he returned with a smile. “Now, where have we been?” 

He took me in his arms once again and laid me down on the bed, between the sheets which remembered the shape of his body and still felt warm. He nestled himself next to me, somewhat more composed, his eyes gleaming with mischief, a playful smile gracing his lips. He brought his large hand down and ran it leisurely across the overly sensitive skin of my breasts, and when I gasped, he took a moment to explore my folds. I arched my back at the sudden sensation and  silently  whimpered.

“Is there something you would like to ask from me?” came his seemingly innocent question. His voice went very low now, as if woven of pure velvet, and its richness rang deeply seductively in my ears. He studied me from under his lashes, a demanding lover that he was. Time stood still.

I bit my lip but said nothing.

“Hmm?” He withdrew his hand, the simple movement itself an effective punishment for my heightened senses and craving body. “Say it!” he breathed, and I knew my words would make a difference. For the future, for how things would evolve. They had a meaning for him because that was what he wanted to hear all along, probably since we had met.

I hesitated for a moment.

“Continue, please...”

“With what?” He purred, bringing his hand down to me again. He brushed my pubic hair with his fingertips, painstakingly slowly. Now  _ that _ was pure torment.

“Making love to me… please...” I finally yielded.

“Making love?” he smiled victoriously. “You can call it that way as well, although, I would prefer to use another word. Open your mouth, little one.” 

I did as he said. He leaned in to  gently  tilt my head backwards, circle his tongue around my lips and then shove it in slowly and deeply. Then he pulled it out for a moment before pushing it in my mouth again, imitating the thrusts of a penis. By this time I was moaning loudly into his mouth, and when he grabbed my hand to place it on his once again hardening cock, I rubbed it desperately without second thought. Immediately, he struggled upwards, and kneeling above me, shoved his cock in my mouth. It tasted of semen and my own juices, but I was far beyond my limit to care about anything else. I sucked at it shamelessly, keeping eye contact with him, until he could take no more and finally pulled away.

He took a few more moments before mounting me, and as he entered me once again, I was immediately sent over the edge in a powerful orgasm. I fought to catch my breath for a moment, and when I glanced up at him between the convulsions, I saw him watching me closely, taking in and utterly enjoying my every movement, each and every breath and change of expression, as an artist might enjoy the sight of his work on which he spent years of his life.

But he chose not to give me time to recover and rest. Instead, he started to move in me again, this time at a more leisurely pace, now that his first wave was after him, and he was satisfied enough to grant himself the pleasure of exploring my limits once more. He rode me in a steady rhythm, determined to break me even further, to make his little plaything writhe under him and moan and beg for more, and I had to admit I did all he wanted me to do. There was no escaping him and his passion.

It was not long before I orgasmed again, him following me soon thereafter.

He did not pull out of me immediately. Instead, he lay on me, supporting himself on his strong arms, and he whispered: 

“Looks like it gets better every single time. You should not be wearing any garments in my chambers at all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, I love this playful Thorin (swoon).


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> this chapter is quite angsty and also gothic. I`ve been reading some Victiorian literature recently and this is the result :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy this sincere look into Kate`s mind. And thanks for your comments, I am always happy to read them:)

_ Erebor is weighing me down. I can feel its dense quality pressing on me, penetrating deep in my flesh and bone, to the very core of my being, dank and cold. Like a thief in the night, lurking in the long crooked corridors and vast stone halls which never saw the light.  _

_ The ever-present draft is killing me. Rising from the invisible holes and fissures in the rock, from the cracks in the stone walls, holes around the aged wooden window frames, from the chimneys which are failing to make me feel warm and cosy. The wind howls and screams at night as a ghost of a stillborn infant. It brings with it the chill which never leaves the old chambers stuffed with antique furnishings, cushioned armchairs with worn-out padding, woodworm-eaten chests of drawers, rusted chandeliers and tables on wobbly legs.  _

_ I can feel the cold endless void enter my heart. This place is so unbelievably old, so ancient and primeval, that only the age of the mountain itself beats it. I wonder if its inhabitants ever notice how it influences them, how it makes their thoughts and minds heavy and grim. And aged. It breathes with a millenium of loneliness. No wonder they call it the Lonely Mountain. _

_ The thick drapes never let in the light. When pulled, they give out a cloud of dust in spite of being taken care of so often. Ah, the light which I miss so much. It kissed my skin only once since I had entered Erebor, this forsaken kingdom, and what consequences it had on my life! Thorin never lets me out. I wonder if he ever will. He is afraid of losing his toy, his slave, his property, but does not realize he will lose me just as surely if he keeps me locked in. I understand him in a way, the dwarves are used to their dark cellars, passages and mines and thus prospair. They do not crave the sunlight as much as I do. He cannot wrap his mind around that, it is too distant an idea, and his thoughts are much more focused on conquering and owning than maintaining. _

_ He occasionally asks what I think about this or that; about the quality of artwork in the throne room (the hall is being reconstructed by master craftsmen), about the taste of water conquested from the recently dug underground well; or if a lightning-struck tree at the front gate should be cut out. He says he wants to see the affairs from a different perspective. But he inquires about my opinions only, not my feelings. There is a huge line between those in his mind and he does not seem to want to erase it. At some point in his life, he built a thick wall and does not speak about feelings. The only ones that slip out at times are anger and rage; and fear of loss, for he had lost and gained all and so knows both sharp edges (although, I reckon, only his closest ones are able to notice it); and at some rare moments, amusement. I do not think he feels joy though; and if he ever does, he does not disclose it. He is as troubled as I am, the only difference between us is, that he got used to it and it has become an inseparable part of him. _

_ I wonder if there is something which could be done for him. To help him find peace and serenity. _

_ At times I catch him staring at me from under furrowed brows, his eyes scrutinizing and grim, as if he was trying to assess me, uncover the deepest places of my soul and make them fit in a picture he has created in his mind of me. As if he was deciding what to do with me. I am a puzzle for him. I do not mind that, I am a complete alien here and probably will remain an alien for very long. _

_ But his behaviour towards me, his tastes and moods vary on occasion. He keeps taking me, day by day, night after night, oftentimes more than once until he is finally satisfied, his dark hunger tamed, only to leave me unnoticed for several days in a row. Sometimes he turns into a rough brute, never caring about my pain and uneasiness; It is clear it actually turns him on, and perhaps even helps him burn away his own devouring darkness. In those horrid moments, he does not ever let me reach my peak and just uses me at his will, as a tame outlet for his black desire. There is a lot of denial. I have noticed he barely touches my most sensitive part, he lets his member do all the work, as if he denied me something which he secretly keeps denying from himself. And just then, when I start to think about the worst, he loses a battle of his own, and carries me gently to his large bed in his arms, smiling, teasing, giving all generously. He gives me what I need, and sometimes lets me choose where and how he does it. And then he continues to force onto me more pleasure than I can possibly handle.  _

_ It baffles me to see him change like that. But it is this terrible change, these constant shifts between the two complete opposites that make me drawn to him. I have nobody else. And I have witnessed his brighter side, he cannot be that bad a person. I just hope I am right. The two extremes must come together, balance one day. _

_ He takes me so often it is a wonder that I am not expecting yet. I fear it could come true one day. But could it, really? Are we not too different species for that? I prefer not to think of it, but the thought naturally occurs from month to month. Not that my period would stop him or make him less eager, he is not that type. Well… _

_ Sometimes, late at night when all is quiet and still, I think of my past life. My friends, family, my men. All the impossible trifles which I found important and pushed myself to achieve, to be a better, more flexible, productive, successful person. Attend to my health, relax, be active, be positive, smile, remember people's names. All were supposed to love me. I tried to never give up, show my brains and discipline to my boss to achieve my goals, to make a career. None of that really worked and I felt guilty for failing myself and the people I cared for. I assume I was just one of the thousands and millions of imperfect souls craving perfection which could never be achieved. We were all ghosts waiting to be freed from their illusions.  _

_ Here in Erebor, all is different, more real, more simple. Eat, sleep, work, submit. That is all that matters now. My world has shrunk to these four simple things, and some little hope for brighter future: for a permission to perhaps take a walk outside, to choose my dress, to make a small purchase of some trinket. No expectations, no false morals, no pretense, no gloss. My life is much more simple. Sometimes I find myself thinking that this is a safe life, safe within the boundaries I am given, within which I can act freely. In this way, there is no shame and no pity. Is this not a form of freedom? _

_ Or perhaps I have it all wrong and have just become the slave that they always wanted me to be. I cannot think straight anymore. _

_ I am making progress in my fighting lessons. Little progress, but it is still steady. Practising thrice a week was difficult at the beginning, my right wrist was strained for quite long, and I had difficulties maintaining my balance during the fight. But I have endured. I think I am stubborn in this matter because it means the world to me. I reckon Dwalin has noticed as well and I see his opinion on me shift - he has turned more patient and sometimes even praises me when I do something particularly correct. He has given me a real sax to practise with, which I consider an honour and an act of trust in my abilities. Of course it remains locked in the chest when Dwalin is not around, just in case I decided to do something stupid. But I think I am on the right track; at least I got  _ something _ right. _

_ My fingers still feel numb, perhaps a little better, but not enough to fully recover. Amarth says the fighting lessons might help because they keep the fingers in action when I have to practise my grip around the handle. I also hope the habit of bathing I have taken up will aid as well. Who knows… _

_ The nightmares have grown scarcer. Not that I could really count them, I often do not remember them, sometimes the only evidence is my feeling exhausted and out of sorts in the morning, but recently I've really had a good night's sleep, sometimes several nights in a row. Thorin has noticed as well. He has me sleep by his side on those nights when he summons me to have his way with me. On those occasions when he turns into the gentle lover, after all is done, he pulls me to him, lying flat on his back, my head rests on his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair while he speaks, in a soothing, calm manner, and it feels as if he was stroking a favoured  pet. And I cling to him and accept what he has to offer. He says I owe the good sleep to my fighting practice and my courage coming out. He is certainly right, but there is also something else - my feeling safe with him by my side. I have to admit I do trust him in those rare, precious moments. Perhaps I should tell him - but what then? Would that not be his final, ultimate victory? _

_ Spring has come. It is early April, and I see my hair grow fast. It covers my ear now. A few more months, and it will look quite normal once again. I wonder if Thorin has noticed and what he thinks about it. I never bring the matter up. But I find it an irony of fate that it grows the longer, the more quickly my defiance diminishes. It is nearly symbolic, as if he actually knew what he was doing on that memorable winter day when he punished me for escaping. _

_ It starts to rain, a light but cold shower over the barren land and a few treetops as far as I can see. It drums against the window panes and I can literally smell the change in the air. I look out of the window - the grim scenery suddenly reminds me of my beloved Bergen, still and quiet under the thick watery ropes pouring from the sky most of the year. Only the grey sea is missing here, and the screams of seagulls. _

_ I no longer know where I belong. I find myself trapped between the worlds. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bergen - a city in Norway.


	26. Chapter 26

It was a particularly rainy morning of late spring. Thick ropes of rain were pouring from the grey skies, the clouds hanging unusually low, and the pressure was making me dizzy and slow to think and react. The humid air was making it hard to breathe. 

I was leaning against the window frame in Thorin's bedroom, standing in the alcove with a comfortable window seat, peering dreamily out through the steamy window at the outside scenery. Unconsciously, I drew a few lines through the moisture. I opened the window to let the fresh air in, the cleaning cloth in my hand all forgotten, and inhaled deeply. The scent of wet earth and ozone flooded the chamber and I drank it in. Thorin had gone out for some business and I knew the room was all mine now, not that I particularly cared, but it was just not the moment to leave. And I had some cleaning to be done. There was a better view out of his windows, naturally, and I couldn't help but stare out dreamily and listen to the raindrops drumming against the windowsill quietly, their voice eventually muted by their fall on the ground.

I sighed and made myself continue with the cleaning. I dusted the table, polished armrests of the padded armchairs and moved on to the orphaned harp standing close by. At one time, I slid the cloth over the wood, accidentally touching a string, and it resounded over the chamber with a deep, rich echo. I stiffened for a moment and quickly held the strings between my palms to mute their voice, but the vibrating memory was already imprinted in my mind. After a brief hesitation, I once again slid my finger across the string, carefully not to damage the harp, and then another and another, like a child suddenly discovering a new toy. I liked the deep, but thoroughly ethereal sound. 

All of a sudden, bewildered, I dropped the cleaning cloth and pushed an armchair towards the harp, seating myself comfortably, imitating the harpists I sometimes came across on TV back home. I`d never played any instrument in my life and had no idea what to do, so instead of trying to play a particular melody, I brought my fingers to the few strings which still remained attached tightly to the frame, and the colourful waterfall of sounds struck me unprepared. It melted with the sounds of the raindrops in the background… It was beautiful, divine, full of melancholy. I just hoped I was not too loud and the guards would not hear me - I could not imagine Thorin like the idea of me playing his harp which he had forgotten to use for his private reasons.

It took me some time to finish my childish play, my fingertips were starting to feel sore, but in the end I realized I was feeling… lighter, much lighter, as if something that was weighing my soul had left, or transformed into the sound.

I needed to play the harp again. I needed it badly.

The harp had become my other life. When Thorin went out for his business, which was very often, I overtook the habit of plucking its strings; secretly, trying hard to be as silent and inaudible as possible. The nearest guard was stationed at the beginning of the long red corridor which was quite far, and the door to Thorin's chamber was heavy and made of dark solid wood. I made sure I first performed all my cleaning duties as usual, not to stir the slightest suspicion, and only then indulged in my play. I used to sit there, at the once lonely harp, for long passing moments, forgetting where I was, and wandered off to faraway lands and my beloved home, a white wooden house on a slope above the city. I was once again the little girl with long hair floating in the cold wind which brought the rain in, and my mom called for me to come in and get a shelter inside the house. I ran to her laughing, and she hugged me saying “You'll catch your death in the weather”, and offered freshly baked cookies with steaming hot tea. It was so comforting.

In the course of time, I was able to play a few songs I knew from my childhood, and some simple versions of our traditional songs. I was even able to remember the lyrics, and when I felt more sure and started to play more mechanically, I added my singing along to the melody.

XXX

 

On that particular day, the mists were rolling heavily outside the window, accompanied with annoying drizzle, and I had to close the window or the chamber would look as if I had set it on fire, full of white smoke. I sighed and leaned into the armchair, commencing to play an old familiar tune. I sang a few words, when the door suddenly opened and Thorin walked in, his footsteps unheard until now. I stopped dead, my blood all frozen in horror. Just another long second, and I jumped to my feet and nearly overturned the harp at that panicked movement. My eyes shot to Thorin to check his reaction, and blurted quickly: 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- ”

“Continue with what you have been doing, just do not break my harp,” came his astonishing answer in a low, husky voice. I could not make of it anything, no anger or disapproval, so I slowly sat back, already feeling blood rise into my cheeks. “As if I was not here.” He folded his arms and remained standing at the door. He resembled a statue of solid stone, heavy and ageless, with no emotion imprinted in his blank face.

I stared at him for a few moments, then returned to the harp with a long sigh. I was not prepared for any show, and having Thorin as my first listener felt strange. But then again, who else.

I hunched over the instrument and took a few painful breaths. My fingers struck the strings nervously, and I sang a few lines in a low, trembling voice. It echoed through the suddenly very quiet room way too loudly, and I mentally cursed for ever having come to this damn idea to even touch the harp. Then I sensed Thorin move out of my sight as he walked past me and seated himself in the other armchair, further away behind my back. As if he had really disappeared, he made no sound, and to my surprise, I could not even feel his presence as usual when he was in the room. I relaxed a little and finished the song with a few sad, grim tones.

“You have a pleasant voice. What was it that you were playing?” came silent words from behind my back.

“Oh, thank you… It… it is a lullaby of my people. My mom used to sing it to me when I was a child. It's a miracle I can remember it after all this time,” I replied, never turning to him.

“And you miss her.” he said more to himself than to me.

“I do… of all people.” My voice broke at the memories and I felt tears sting in my eyes. I took a few moments to battle them, and when I was sure I regained my control, I took a deep, reassuring breath and continued. “If you allowed me to return to the lake and inspect it, perhaps I could find a way to see my home again. And if it didn't work, at least I'd know I did all I could and would finally find my peace here. This insecurity is killing me. I need to be sure… Please.”

“And if you succeeded?” his voice felt tired and cold and behind it, I sensed a subtle hint of what I would never have expected from him - a hint of hurt. As if he was pondering on the matter for a hundred times over but never came to a satisfying conclusion for me and himself. It was always me  _ or  _ himself. Never us, never a consensus. And now that I brought it up, he was thrown in the Ouroboros circle once again.

“If I succeeded even though I have no idea how to do it… you would certainly know you had done the right thing, deep inside. There are certainly lots of dwarven maids waiting to… take over my duties happily,” I whispered, looking down on my hands. Those were bold words and the outcome uncertain, but I was desperate for a change. For a big change.

There was a minute of deep silence. I wondered if I had at last softened his heart.

“No. I enjoy your presence here too much,” was his final, firm answer.

How else. My eyes watered anew and I buried my face in my hands, once again devastated.

“Then can I at least take a walk outside? With a guard, with as many guards as you wish to stay with me, I promise I won't do anything silly!” I literally felt him glare at me, burning his gaze into the skin of my back, but continued hastily. “I need vitamin D… I mean the sun, see, I need the sunlight on my skin, otherwise I will get sick and die! We humans are like that, please believe me! What's the point of saving my life when you let me die a slow death afterwards?” I spoke passionately, but once the words slipped out of my mouth, I realized how the speech sounded. My hand flew to my mouth and I turned around to see what damage had been done.

Thorin slowly stood up and strode towards me, his brow furrowed, his jaw tightly clenched.

I gulped. But instead of hurting me, he touched my chin and gently made me look up at him. He wiped the trail of my tears away with his thumb, then leaned in and planted a slow, light kiss on my lips. He remained leaning above me for a long moment, scrutinising me, trying to figure out if I was speaking the truth; but there was also something else he was searching for in my eyes, an answer to a question which plagued him but he never asked aloud, only to straighten his back again with a muted, heavy sigh. I wondered what it was on his mind that he never said.

“Now,” he said quietly, “Hold your back straight.” And he positioned the harp so that its tip leaned against my right shoulder, not too high nor low. “If you do not have the right angle, it will become difficult to play it. If you place it too low, the harp will become too heavy and you will get tired of the pressure. If it is too high, it will tend to fall forward, you need to find for yourself what works for you.” I was so surprised by his sudden change of the topic that I immediately complied, and nodded that I understood. 

Then he pushed my elbows gently up so that they were now leveling my shoulders. “This way. The movement does not come from your hands but from your elbows, shoulders and lower back.” And he made a series of graceful gestures, imitating a play, exactly as I saw other musicians do, only that he looked more natural and less theatrical. And, well, more historical. I noticed he did not attempt to touch the strings though.

“The harp is monstrously out of tune, it was not used for decades. It is a wonder you could play a single clean note on it. I will have somebody reattach the missing strings and fix it. In the meantime, you may practise the play as often as you wish. Do not forget the proper posture though.”

At those words, my jaw dropped. “Thank you… But are you not angry with me, having found me like this? I thought - ”

“Recently your fingertips have turned considerably harder. Do you really think I have not noticed?” he slightly shook his head, as if scolding a child. “I am quite observant, little one.”

XXX

 

Next day I found the harp miraculously fixed by an unknown hand, its strings reattached and the old wood polished and shiny. It gleamed with new life once again and it was a miracle to see it that way. 

For the next three days I practised the posture Thorin had taught me, and had to admit that the play was much more comfortable and I felt more relaxed. I continued my improvisations of random melodies and thought this was all I could ever get out of the harp.

On the fourth day, though, just after his breakfast, Thorin showed me to the harp with a hint of smile.

“Play for me.”

I struck the strings carefully, doing my best to keep the proper posture, and played once again the old lullaby I had already played for him. Thorin watched me from behind my back, but when I finished, he stood up and walked to me, making small adjustments of my posture, here and there even showing me the correct string to the correct tune. Then he made me repeat it in front of him once, and after a minute of two, left the chamber to chase after his duties. On the next morning, he did the same, and soon thereafter I realized we had made a regular habit out of these short morning sessions. I came to enjoy these peaceful and precious moments, because, as unbelievable as it sounded, that was just when I ceased to be the slave that I was, and turned into a free woman indulging in doing what she loved to do, of her own will. And Thorin, well, for brief seconds, what gleamed out through the mask of the all-powerful king was a man simply enjoying music and sharing bits and pieces of his mastery, which for some reason he neglected for very long. He looked younger, much younger then, especially when he ceased to frown to show me something enthusiastically, a single note, a sweet tune. I saw the light spring in his eyes then, as they turned into the sky-blue fountains.

In these moments, he did not order around nor force me, and did not scold me either. He turned into a silent, observant listener, invisible at the back of the room, only stepping forth to here and there suggest little improvements. From time to time, he nodded approvingly when I played something particularly well, sometimes even praising me. Then he walked out of the chamber to leave me spend my time as I wished. 

Until one day, three weeks after he had started to teach me, upon returning from performing my daily duties, I found a brand new harp standing in my tiny chamber. It was smaller, lighter and neater than Thorin’s, of polished birch wood, and having spotted it, I immediately ran to Thorin’s quarters, fell to my knees and thanked him with tears in my eyes. 

He laughed heartily and replied his simple “You are most welcome. Take good care of the gift,” and he petted my hair, warmth spreading in his eyes. And I, happy beyond measure and thought, kissed the back of his large hand. 

I think, at that moment something between us sealed. A bond, a treaty, you name it.

Of course I continued to take Thorin’s lessons in the morning, but afterwards continued my practise in my chamber, when I was alone, sometimes even at night. To play my - MY! - harp felt different but I enjoyed it just the same. It fitted my body proportions perfectly as if it was tailor-made just for me, but I did not ask. Thorin’s harp was much more robust and heavy in sound.

On one occasion, after a longer thoughtful silence, Thorin asked if I would like to learn a dwarvish song, an old one and not often played. I swallowed but agreed - he had never offered to teach me a whole new song before - and stood up to make space for him at the harp. He refused to take the offered seat. Instead, still standing, he hummed a slow soft tune, a verse or two in a language I could not comprehend, his voice a deep, rich baritone, surprisingly pleasant to listen to. He gestured for me to try and play it, but I could not repeat it flawlessly, at which he frowned. After a moment of internal fight, he took my place but remained seated, unmoving. He brought his fingers up, scrutinising his hands, making them into fists and then relaxing them, as if remembering what to do and how to play the instrument. Then he exhaled, his features strangely torn in an inner turmoil, his chin quivering, and struck the strings once just to try, twice with more force, only to wring them once again skillfully and flawlessly, and absolutely automatically. The melody was slow and melancholic but entirely beautiful, and I loved it just for what it did with Thorin. He finished and let the echo resound in the chamber. Then he stood up with a gentle smile and when I took his place, he showed me the tones one by one once again and I repeated them without a single mistake.

“You have a gift, little one,” he said smiling and stroked my cheek with unbelievable gentleness. I looked up at him and smiled back shyly. What I saw in his eyes then stunned me - for a split second, it was admiration, before it disappeared again behind his usual gloomy glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Ouroboros - an ancient symbol depicting a snake biting its own tail; eternity, recurring cycles
> 
> I have never played a harp, haha, so I needed to check some tutorials to be able to write this chapter. Hope it sounds at least a little believable because I think Thorin would be a great teacher :)
> 
> Also, they both are usings ancient-looking harps which are smaller (not the ones you can see in today`s orchestra); more like a celtic harp, I`d say.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this, and as always I`m happy to read your comments :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out :) Please leave comments, as always.

It didn't take long until the endless rain finally ceased to fall and the sun sprang up from behind the treetops. It shone above the rocky landscape once again and the days were filled with the promise of warmth and bright light after the long winter. Soon thereafter, the mud dried out, and at noon it was so hot that I thought the nature had skipped one whole season. But then I remembered the Lonely mountain was situated a little higher above the landscape so the harsh changes in the temperatures made sense.

I was standing by the high window, admiring the landscape, breathing in all the scents of late spring which soft breeze carried all the way up here, when Thorin walked towards me and stood by my side. I looked at him questioningly, but he did not break the silence, so I turned my attention back to the window. I felt his hand slowly wrap around my waist. He gently pulled me towards him and we stood there side by side, motionless, silent, his hand resting on my waist but never roaming. 

I wondered how long it had been since he last took me. I couldn't really tell, but it couldn't have been longer than since I started to play the harp. Something unwelcome stirred at the back of my mind. Was it a shadow of a doubt? Or perhaps a sting of regret? I quickly waved the thought away and smiled at the bright day.

“We will take a ride out today. The roads have dried, it will be a good stretch for the horses as well. All the preparations have been done. You will get a pair of riding boots, I do not want any damage done to your legs,” he said casually, looking down at me.

I couldn't believe my ears - I must have misheard or misunderstood him, he can't just so let me out after all those long months! Where's the catch?

“Is there something you do not like about the idea? Last time you looked very eager to take a walk outside of The Lonely Mountain,” he said, feigning surprise. But there was a spark of amusement in his eye.

“Oh no, no… I mean - yes! I'd love to! Thank you so much! You just surprised me,” I blabbered, blushing deep red. “Let's go, please! Even now, or anytime, just- ”

“That is a much better answer, little one,” he straightened his back and let go off my waist. “We leave immediately, just the two of us. You already know how to behave, do you not?” There was a subtle dangerous undertone to his last words.

“I do, Your Majesty, of course. Thank you for trusting me...” I slightly bowed my head to emphasize my words. Thorin's gaze lingered on me for a long moment before he nodded and smiled.

 

XXX

 

We set off that very morning and I was so excited that I felt slightly nauseous. But I fought it bravely and decided not to speak of it, just in case. I was given a pair of new, beautiful riding boots made of dark brown leather, just as I was promised. They fit me perfectly and felt very comfortable. They also equipped me with dark brown leather pants and a long tunic reaching down to half of my thighs; perfectly male clothing which was very unusual, especially now when I got already accustomed to the female fashion here. There was an exception in my case - as far as I knew, females here wore long dresses even when riding - which I appreciated once I put on the pants. What a feeling!

Two horses awaited us in front of the Erebor main gate. I could see them from the inside as we, Thorin and myself, were approaching the exit, and my heart beat wildly with excitement. The first - and last - time that I crossed this threshold my life changed for the worse, and I sincerely hoped it would change once again, but this time hopefully for the better. Thorin walked in front of me in long, self-conscious steps, and I followed him hastily, eyeing the guards who stood on both sides of the gate. They did not move as I passed them by, and I relaxed, as foolish as it sounded. Once outside, Thorin lifted me to the saddle of the smaller horse, a meek brown mare, adjusted the length of my stirrups, and grasping my reigns, mounted his own black stallion. There he fastened my reigns to his horn, and turned to me: 

“You have not ridden on your own before, am I right?”

I shook my head no.

“Then hold tight to the horn. Do not press or kick your horse's hips, or it might get confused. I have the reigns now. For now, you do not need to know anything more.”

And we set off.

The first metres were the most exciting ones, I had to admit; I took in the surroundings and how it had changed over the months after the snow had melted away. We crossed the bridge and followed a wild clean stream, The River Running, which originated in the mountain and flowed hundreds of miles away to the south, through the wilderness and forests to the far sea. We turned left before the ruins of the city of Dale and headed to the forest where the river changed its current. The sun was shining and reflecting brightly in the waves as in a mirror and the weather was pleasantly warm. I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows and turned my face upward to let the sun kiss my skin. For a moment I closed my eyes, taking in all the sensations from the clean fresh air to the soft rocking of my horse's hips, and when I opened them, saw Thorin watching me attentively. He seemed to know what was going on in me; he did not speak and let me digest all that was happening. We rode in a comfortable silence for about half an hour and my heart was overflowing with such joy and gratitude that I said:

“Thank you so much for taking me out.” Thorin nodded with the faintest hint of a smile and it made me more confident to ask further. “The sword, now the horse… Have you perhaps considered riding lessons for me? I love horses.”

Thorin's eyes shot at me. “No, I have not. You are in no need to know how to ride a horse. Or do you have plans to ride alone?” His sharp gaze was now penetrating my flesh with such intensity that I looked down on my hands clasped on the horn, my knuckles all white with the effort.

“I don't have any such plans. I was just… curious.” I swallowed, trying to hide my disappointment. Perhaps I just have exaggerated expectations and it is easy to get used to good things and forget the bad ones. 

“You are a strange woman, Kate. I have given you the permission to use the sword, then the harp, and now you want a horse. Are we not a little too eager?” He teased, and when I shrunk and did not reply, he narrowed his eyes and continued. “How are your lessons going? Dwalin says you are making progress. Interesting especially because you have no experience in such matters.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What matters? I was given the opportunity to learn and so I learn, that's all. You would do the same if you were in my shoes, I think. It's essential if I want to survive here. I learned a lot back in my world, at school; not in self-defence though, we didn't really need that. And the sax… I am making progress but it's not easy at all.”

Thorin frowned as he tried to grasp the idea of education available for everyone. 

“What else did you learn back there? Except reading.”

“Well, lots of things. I studied at a university, so I used to read and write a lot. I can speak three languages - my major was Norwegian and I added comparative literature to it, but don't ask me how I ended up in a telecommunications company.” There was a flash of astonishment in Thorin's eyes at these words, and I couldn't help but push him a little further. “What else? Beside normal classes, I took a course of philosophy,  history and gender studies, but can't use any of it here. I can drive a car,” at this I stopped and waited if he would ask what it was, but he nodded and I remembered I once spoke to him of cars. And he remembered very well. “And yes, I know how to give first aid as well… just to give you the idea.” I shot a quick side-glance at him to check the effect, but the impressed look faded away quickly as he accommodated the idea of me as an educated scholar, so uncommon for lower classes of his world.

“Why would you do all that?”

“To get a good job and have something to occupy myself with. And also because I like to study.”

“Is that common for women in Norway?”

“For women and men alike, definitely. It is uncommon  _ not _ to study something. Our society emphasizes education, we built our wealth and wellbeing on that. And equality of both sexes in any situation.”

“In the army as well?”

I nodded proudly at which he frowned. “That makes no sense. Women are too soft to become soldiers.”

“Well, our women used to fight in the past when times were hard and dangerous just as-” I didn't finish the sentence. I cleared my throat to continue. “They were called shieldmaidens. They used to sail abroad along with male warriors to conquer foreign lands and, well, to take treasures. When it comes to the present, I myself would not join the army or go mining because it's just not right for me. But we all are different and if somebody feels inclined to that, why not. People can surprise you. Just let them take the liberty to try; life offers so many opportunities to try all its shades and tastes, why not play with it.” I shrugged.

“Perhaps.” There was a long thoughtful silence before he finally added. “In Erebor we believe we are predestined for a certain path in life, you may call it fate. We become what we were born to do, take over our ancestors` occupations, be it craft or farming,  and continue with what they have started. Your lives are full of chaos if you think in such a wide range. Here we face too many evils to take the liberty to _ explore all the possibilities, _ as you put it.” 

“Can be.”

“Now you have become a part of our world. I believe you were destined to come here to me.”

“Why?” I turned to him with suddenly watery eyes, desperate for an honest, truthful answer.

“I do not know. First I thought you were to explain the travellers from the lake you read about in the legend, but now I am not sure. There is something else about you. But if you  _ could _ travel all the way here, then Norway was certainly not the right place for you. It was Erebor. Only the time will tell the reason.” He said silently, his eyes fixed on the horizon where a few low slopes stood up, covered with forests. His black stallion neighed, throwing his head backwards, and Thorin patted its neck.

“I had this dream once… back in the dungeon,” I paused, clenching my teeth.

“What dream?” Thorin looked at me with just a slight alert in his voice.

“When I was delirious, I think I might even have passed out for a minute… A voice told me to return to the lake. It literally said “Return to the lake when the storm rages.” I don't know what to think of it. It could mean anything.”

“Or  _ exactly _ what it said.” He paused for the length of a few breaths and his features hardened. “You know you are not going anywhere.” His eyes pierced me once again and I looked away.

“I do… Do you know anything more about the travellers, though?” I could not help but ask.

“I do not know if they ever returned where they came from, but I find it just as safe as marching alone in the centre of an orc camp unarmed. Do not spend too much time thinking about it, it is not worth it.” He finished silently but firmly.

We rode silently side by side, lost in thoughts. After a few minutes I realized I heard a distant roar approaching and soon enough we reached a clearing which opened below a high cliff. And from it rushed the hurried waters of The River Running, splashing in the depths in a large waterfall. The beautiful scenery took my breath away.

Thorin dismounted and helped me get down as well. As if to lighten up the general mood, he unsheathed his long sword which until now hung by his belt and swayed it playfully in the air, with careless ease of a skilled warrior. He handed it to me, hilt-first.

“Now you have one of your favourite opportunities to prove yourself a warrior,” he smiled. “Show me what you have learned from Dwalin.”

I squeezed the sword tightly with a soft sigh. It was unbelievably heavy, much heavier than my short sax and as I weighed it in my hand just to try it, I noticed a few ancient runes engraved in the blade.

“Orcrist,” Thorin said. The legendary elvish sword I heard the dwarves talk about more than once. I took a closer look at it. It looked ancient, elegant and deadly, all at once, even with the pommel inlaid with the four gems.

I swallowed. “Where is  _ your _ weapon?”

“I have a knife but it is not worth using against this sword,” he said, taking off his coat, shaking his hair off his face, obviously dead serious, already preparing for a fight. He stood there empty-handed in his leather armour strengthened with metal plates, watching me, anticipation written in his features.

“But you are unarmed! What if I hurt-”

“You will not hurt me,” he interrupted me impatiently. “Attack!”

“As you wish!” I growled for myself and stepped in to attack him, quickly, impatiently, aiming for his chest as if he was a lifeless, straw man. He ducked away, turning around in a semi-circle, and as I swayed his own sword against him once again with full force, the blade dangerously close to his throat, he slipped on the wet grass and fell backwards, and I followed him in the momentum, having no chance to coordinate my movements. With a shriek, I already saw the sword falling down to him in a direct trajectory but he was quick enough to raise his hand and the blade slid smoothly down the leather of his bracer and sank into the ground, followed by myself falling directly on Thorin. I hit him with full weight and his eyes widened as he gasped for breath. I immediately struggled up to my elbows to help him breathe freely, but just as he caught his breath again in a few seconds, he started to laugh. But what laughter that was, joyful, loud and rich! My heart skipped a beat.

“Why are you laughing?! I could have killed you!”

“Little one, that was not bad, not bad at all!”

“Oh... but did I hurt you?”

“Not at all.” He slid his gaze across his right arm and carelessly checked his bracer which had obviously saved him from an ugly wound, or even worse. “Blows like this always seem to avoid me. Sometimes I find myself thinking I must be immortal.”

And he was already on his feet, bracing himself in a fighting position. “Once again!”

“Oh no, I'm not doing this again!” I exclaimed.

“Kate! Do as I say!”

“Ok! You-” and I attacked him once again before I even finished the sentence, suddenly all angry at how foolishly he risked his health fighting empty-handed a beginner with a real weapon. I took a step closer and as I swayed the sword from below in a low circle, he caught the blade flat in between his palms and held it tight. I was unable to move it, now it was the pure strength of his muscles against mine as I lost the momentum, and I froze in astonishment. He smirked and suddenly pushed the sword against me, turning me to the right and backwards, and I immediately found myself on the ground, lying flat on my back just as Thorin was a few seconds ago, and it really hurt. By the satisfied look on his face I realized he was just testing me in the first round, and now decided to show me how it feels to really fight. Well, it hurt. My head was spinning and I needed a minute to compose myself. Thorin was standing above me, and when he sheathed the sword which had slipped from my hands, he asked.

“Are you hurt?”

I glared at him but replied: “No.” 

He took me by the arm and lifted me up to my feet. There he quickly checked me for any visible wounds, but when he found none, he withdrew his hand.

“I will instruct Dwalin how to continue with your drill. You have good basics, Kate, you will be able to really fight. I am very pleased with you today.” He smiled warmly and was once again the young, cheerful Thorin I adored so much. “I could soon make you my personal guard,” he joked.

“Thank you.” I smiled back. We stared at each other for a moment. I thought I would tell him how good it felt to see him this happy and carefree and that I hoped I would hear him laugh more often, but as if he had sensed it, he withdrew and taking a step back, he pointed at the waterfall. The spell was broken and I shut my mouth feeling that I had missed something important.

He looked at the sun and then suddenly turned to me.

“Come, I will show you something,” he whispered and taking my hand in his, led me to the roaring crystalline waters. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny bit of fluff, gosh I needed it :) The chapter is rather short, the next one should be longer. Still I hope you like it.   
> Please leave comments :)

There was a cave hidden behind the waterfall`s thick curtain, invisible from the outside, but perfectly wide and comfortable with a space of its own, as if not belonging to this world at all. It was dry and dusty despite the water falling near, its walls rough and dark grey, disappearing in the blackness of the tunnel which led to the far end.

Thorin led me inside with Orcrist in his hand prepared, carefully checking if the cave was occupied, and I followed in his steps. Satisfied with the results of his search, he sheathed the sword and turned to me. The roaring water wall threw a few highlights in his face and his eyes shone at me from the darkness. It distantly reminded me of a wild beast lurking in the recesses of its lair, waiting for its prey, but then he smiled - faintly, but it was still there - and my Thorin was back again. 

I exhaled.

“Look,” he whispered, pointing towards my back. I turned around to meet one of the most beautiful sights my eyes could ever behold. The cold waters fell in front of me in thick ropes, forming a deafening wall of sound and matter, and through them shone the sun, its rays breaking on the water drops as in tiny magnifying glasses into a myriad colours of the spectrum, and flooded the space as if it was a natural inner sanctum. I was left speechless for long seconds.

“It's beautiful.”

“Aye,” he agreed silently, as if he did not want to break the spell. “I used to come here often, when I was just a child, to hide and play. It was my secret cave. Nobody knew of it, I imagined, well, except Frerin. It used to be safe here then, until the dragon came, and then the orcs started to plunder our lands.” A shadow crossed his handsome features as he spoke.

“Why worry about the past that you cannot change anymore?” I offered instead. “Look at the present. It is not that bad, after all. Your kingdom prospairs and you yourself are doing very well, as far as I can judge.”

He looked at me and slowly nodded, his furrowed brows finally relaxing.

“Aye, there are still some good things at hand.”

He beckoned for me to come closer, and when I questioningly obeyed, he pulled me closer and leaned in to bury his face in my hair. I heard him inhale the scent slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a little under his heavy mane, and I let him have his quiet moment of peace. My trembling fingers drew a single long line across his back, slow and comforting, as far as they could reach.

He smiled with misted eyes and gently pushed me against the cold wall, his lips locking with mine in a deep, passionate, hungry kiss which, as I now knew, helped him forget. I shivered and welcomed him happily, out of sheer gratitude for the nice moments we had just had outside, and moaned silently as his hand slid under my tunic and uncovered my shoulder. He bent down to kiss the gentle skin, and I leaned against the wall for support as my head started spinning anew, this time for a much more pleasant reason. His hands and lips were everywhere now, he was panting heavily and pressing and rubbing against me so hungrily as if this sheer act of giving and taking pleasure could save him, and as he squeezed the edge of my tunic to pull it up, his hand touched the buckle on my pants. His eyes, now darkened with passion, met mine, and I saw in them sudden rejection. He once again looked around the cave, scrutinising the surroundings as if searching for some lurking danger, and to my utter dismay, pulled my tunic down to its place and took a tentative step back.

“This is not a safe place, not even for a quick job,” he whispered apologetically and I saw it was the warrior in him speaking, taking over the control, never wanting to be caught off guard.

“What has changed?” I asked silently. 

Thorin raised an eyebrow at me and I quickly continued before I could regret it. “You have not touched me for a few weeks. I was wondering...” I could not believe what I was actually saying.

“Do you miss it?” he asked back, the playful spark returning to his eye.

“Ummm... “ I averted my gaze and blushed, thinking of some good answer.  _ Yes, but only those tender parts, when you don't hurt me. But then again... _

“Do you miss me deep inside of you, little one?” he growled more than whispered, his voice once again hitting the lower spectrum of the variety of its shades it could muster. He looked towards the entrance in the direction of the waterfall and then back at me, weighing any possible danger which could enter from the outside, and then, obviously coming to a decision, took a slow, determined step closer, encircling my waist with his hands, and leaned in so that his lips lingered next to my ear. I felt his warm breath on my skin and I shivered.

“So… it looks this little slave is missing her king,” he feigned he was making a guess but knew the answer very well. “How much do you miss me in your tight little pussy? Tell me.” 

He pressed his body against mine, pinning me to the wall, and I silently moaned. He grabbed my hair in his fist and gently pulled at them so that my neck was now fully uncovered and at his mercy. He licked at it, a predator tasting his prey, and when I moaned again, he bit me just enough to make my heartbeat go frantically wild. I felt my tunnel clench painfully in sudden need of him. He smirked against my skin, any danger forgotten now.

“How much is it that you want me? Let me see.” 

His hand travelled down between my thighs and when it touched my core, I gasped. He unbuckled my pants, slid them down along with my panties, immediately turned me around and pressed me hard against the wall. I could feel his massive erection rub against my bare buttocks as he leaned in to darkly growl into my ear something in Khuzdul. It sounded harsh and filthy, and he possessively reached in between my thighs once again. By this time I was already dripping wet and he growled once again, pressing against me so hard he pushed the air out of my lungs. 

“All wet, just for me. Let me have a little taste of you, my dear, before we return.” 

His warm, skilled fingers slid against my folds and massaged them with natural ease, then circled my clit and I could not help but grind my hips against his erection. He pushed his knee between my legs and made me spread them wide. He grabbed my hips and adjusted me so that I was now leaning against the wall with my hands, half-bent forward. His large hand massaged my buttocks before it fell down heavily on my skin once, twice and thrice, powerfully squeezing and kneading the cheeks in between. I whimpered in pain but did not protest. Then his manhood slid inside me easily, filling me to the fullest, stretching me in all ways so delightfully that I forgot how he just handled me and was left short of breath.

It felt so good, after the long wait.

He started to thrust in me from behind with powerful, steady, calculated movements, holding me by one hip and shoulder in the position, accompanied by his low grunts of pure lust. My knees went wobbly and his thrusts sent sparks of electricity down my nerves, from the bottom of my spine all the way to my fingertips. I was panting heavily now and it took a few more moments before he sent me over the edge. He continued to mercilessly ride me until he finally filled me with his hot seed with the lowest of growls. 

He leaned against me, his chest radiating warmth against my back, and his hair tickled my cheek. He was still panting heavily, and as he encircled his arms around my waist to embrace it, I realized I was panting with him, my chest rising and falling with his in perfect sync. He finally pulled out.

I dressed again as quickly as my blank mind and exhausted body allowed and slid down against the wall to sit down. Just a minute of rest, to compose myself.

Thorin looked down at me, his eyes still slightly hooded and unfocused as he sighed his passion away and just a little drowsily stepped closer to the waterfall. He plunged his hand into the cold water, washed his face and ran it over his hair to refresh himself, only to turn back to me and to do the same with a soft smile. Had I not known him and his reasons, I would have said he was acting as a man in love. But that was not the case, could not be.

But then he produced something out of a hidden pocket of his tunic. 

“I have nearly forgotten something.”

He held his hand outstretched in front of my eyes, and my breath hitched. On his palm lay a necklace with an oval pendant, the chain all silvery and shiny, and in the centre of the pendant a dark blue gem adorned with other eight translucent, colourless stones. I gasped.

“Do you like it? It is made of mithril. It is worth a fortune, take good care of it.” He spoke silently as he unbuckled it and secured it on my neck. I looked down on my decollete. It shone brightly now, the stones delicate, decent and yet so eye-catching.

“Why are you giving it to me?” I asked suspiciously.

“Do I have to give reasons for everything?” He was looking down at me from under his lashes, his eyes a little hazy.

“Out of all people, I would say yes.”

“I just want to give you something.”

“I don't know what to say…”

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

I smiled, my voice turning just a little more moved than I had intended. “Thank you. It is beautiful.” 

My hand shot to my neck to touch the pendant, just to feel its light but cold presence. I guess I must have shone along with the stones because Thorin's smile widened as he watched my reaction. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him and he let me do it, but then withdrew with a soft smile gracing his lips.

“Not now, my dear. Come,” and he took my hand in his once again and led me out of the secret cave.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> it`s been a while since I last updated, but here I am now with the new chapter :) It`s a little longer and I hope it was worth the waiting.
> 
> Enjoy, and please leave comments.

We were headed for Thorin's quarters when we met Dwalin on the stairs. He greeted his king and asked to accompany him to the audience hall where some business needed to be settled. 

“It is regarding lady Dis` wedding,” he said with an important look.

Thorin frowned but immediately turned around to follow him. Before leaving, he winked at me conspiratorially and gestured for me to wait in his chamber. The doubled footsteps echoed in the hall as the males strode away hastily, their walk synchronized as if they were one body, if not one soul.

I wondered if Dis would really marry Éomer as I had already overheard once before, all the evidence was there. What a strange coincidence, to be married away to the bed of an unknown man and swear to obey him at any cost, under any circumstances. Our fates, as Thorin would say, were not that different after all. Would they be able to find a way to each other?

I headed for Thorin's chambers and unconsciously sat by the harp, out of pure habit. As I wrung its ancient strings, memories of today morning flashed in front of my eyes, merry, carefree and happy. I sent a sincere prayer to any gods who would be willing to listen, a hope for peace for everybody in this household. Let them all find their equilibrium, no matter what background they come from.

Then I remembered I was still wearing the riding boots and clothes. I frowned. I must smell like hell! I opened the door and briskly walked downstairs to my chamber where I grabbed a clean dress, and then hurried up to the bathhouse. I washed the toil of the day away, quickly, because I was not sure when Thorin would be returning and I did not want to miss his arrival. I changed to a clean dress and all fragrant and refreshed returned to Thorin's chamber, awaiting… What, after all? I had this intense feeling that something would be happening. I sat in an armchair, and flipping over a few pages of a history book I had grabbed on my way, ate some sweets. Time passed and I was starting to feel uneasy. Where is Thorin?

But when he finally opened the door, all my worries dissolved. He chose the opposite armchair and sat down heavily with a deep tired sigh. He rested his head against the back of the armchair.

“So, the inevitable has happened. The preparations have been made. My sister will be leaving Erebor in a few days.”

“I will congratulate her when I meet her - is it appreciated from... somebody like me?”

“Yes, you can do it. The wedding will take place in Rohan, of course. I will accompany her as well until all is finished and she settles in her new home. It might take a few weeks until I return.” His eyes wandered to me questioningly.

“Oh, I see.” My throat suddenly grew tight.

“She might need one more handmaid to stay there with her.”

My eyes dilated as all the possible implications flew in front of them in a series of images. Unknown Rohan, far-away but full of humans, my people whose customs I should be able to understand. And Éomer so close, perhaps too close, even with a new bride by his side. And no Thorin at all. I involuntarily shivered. My hand reached for the pendant hanging at my neck, the strange shiny metal now warmed by my body heat. It felt so comfortable and natural, a token of something unspoken, a promise.

“The handmaid would be very close to any dangers. I would not be able to protect her from here, unless she were willing to do it herself.” His eyes shot to me once again, grave and heavy.

I took my time to consider what he was proposing. The longer I thought, the heavier the silence felt. Thorin stirred impatiently and I knew had I pleaded him immediately to let me go, he would have seriously considered it. I could not leave, not now.

“But I am not willing to spare any more women for the sake of this matter. My sister will take one handmaid with her. Along with her personal guard,” he said with an air of finality and his fingers tapped against the armrest.

“I do not think there is a need for another handmaid,” I whispered and looked him in the eyes.

“Good,” he slightly smiled and sat back, relaxing further into the armchair.

I let out a shaky breath before inhaling deeply. “I don't have the right to point this out, but… do you think she will be handled appropriately?”

His eyes narrowed, but still he took the effort to explain: “There are certain laws in place which even Éomer has to honour, the laws of Rohan and Erebor alike. But I do not think that will be necessary; Rohan needs us desperately just the as we need Rohan. Éomer is not a fool, he does realize this very clearly. He will not intimidate or misuse a woman of royal blood.”

“Oh, I see. I hope your sister will find her happiness there,” I said finally, choosing the words carefully. “What would her status be? Will she become the queen?”

“Yes, once king Théoden dies, Éomer will take his place. It could take years but it is still worth the waiting. Rohan will become a powerful ally, especially now that the alliance will be sealed by the new bond. Dis will be able to pull the strings from behind, to our advantage.”

“That sounds wise.” This was it, the changes ahead I had anticipated all along, possibly the end of an era. My heart felt suddenly heavy, perhaps because I saw my fate in Dis` eyes. This is how women survive in the men's world.

“Come, play for me something.” Thorin invited me with a hint of smile. “I need to take a good rest before the journey.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” I stood up and strode to the harp which stood behind his armchair, still a little shaky from the permission to leave which I had not - oddly - taken advantage of. As I passed him by, he outstretched his hand to touch my floating hair. I hesitated but he did not try to catch me, so I sat by his harp and hit the strings.

I was playing the second song when Thorin suddenly stood up and walked to me. It was a new song, one that I played in front of him for the first time, one of those I remembered from my homeland. An ancient folk melody. Thorin listened carefully, watching my fingers intently, and when I finished, he bid me stand up with a soft smile. He seated himself in the chair, moving further back to make space for me in between his legs.

“Sit.”

I hesitantly sat down, and he adjusted his position according to me.

“Play it once more.”

I obeyed, and as I started to play anew and the melody resounded over the chamber, Thorin lifted his arms on both of my sides, and straightening his back to be able to reach further and make more space for my own movements, he reached for the harp. He listened to me playing the steady main rhythm and then he hit the strings I was not using, producing a complementary melody, dramatic, a little too chaotic and passionate, but utterly beautiful. Our tunes matched perfectly, flowing in sync, and I was astonished by how easily Thorin could improvise to create such a powerful musical experience, and still be able to adjust to my lead. I was beyond myself. I felt his body against my back occasionally touching me as he worked. I felt he was smiling.

The song finished and I remained seated as I was, letting the lighthearted atmosphere sink in. Seconds passed and I couldn't stand it any longer. I turned around to look at Thorin who was eyeing me with a strange expression written in his features, in which mixed astonishment, pleasure, amusement, and something more. It was a subtle hint, an idea he did not speak but it felt like “I have found something.”

“What was  _ that _ ?” I asked silently.

“That, my dear, was a duet,” he replied with a mischievous smile.

“No. You know what I mean.”

He was looking at me in such a way that I couldn't help but dissolve in those deep eyes for a few memorable moments. I turned around even further and leaned in to him, so close that I had to support myself with a hand placed on the padding of the chair. He lifted me a little and bringing his knees together, helped me sit on his lap so that I was now facing him from one side. He touched my hair and stroked it gently, then brought a single stream to his nose and deeply inhaled the scent.

That was when I reached for him and pressed my mouth to his. It was the most natural thing to do in this unique moment. When our lips parted, I opened my eyes to look into his - he was literally gleaming with joy and when I blushed, his light smile widened. He interlocked his fingers in my hair and brought my face to his once again, holding me close but not forcing at all, and he kissed me deeply but overly tenderly. I shivered, suddenly feeling very hot, and he laughed throatily.

“My little harp. May I wring your strings?”

“Yes,” I consented with a smile.

And he brought his fingers down to my body and suggested a few playful strokes from my face and chest, all the way down to my belly and then repeated the journey once more, finishing at my Venus mound, adding a few more special accents down there. I arched my back involuntarily, inhaling sharply, and he laughed again.

“You are glorious when you moan.”

Then he lifted me in the air and walked with me to the bed. He laid me gently on the blanket so that my feet were hanging down to the floor, and rolling my dress up above my waist knelt on the floor in front of me. He lifted my feet and placed them on his shoulders, positioning himself in between. I was wearing no panties as he had commanded before, and this position offered him a unique view of my intimate parts. He took his time to explore my folds virtually before bringing his lips closer. He placed soft kisses on my inner thighs, stroking me all over my body where he could reach, and looked at me suggestively as he brought his mouth to my core. He breathed in my scent at which I protested, but he shook his head no in the slightest of warnings, and circled my clit with his tongue.

“Open for me,” he whispered under his breath and when I obediently spread my thighs just a little more, he reclaimed the outer lips so passionately that I gasped and my legs started to tremble. I readjusted my feet on his shoulders to be able to face this sweet torment better, and he reached for my hand and took it in his gently just to have the contact. Then, lifting his head with a mischievous smile, he gave my clit a few good, delicious licks, sucking and tasting and teasing, testing how far he could go with me, how far he could take me. I arched my back with a loud moan and grabbed the bedsheet, which earned me his low approving grunt.

“Good girl. Do not come too soon though. I have something more for you.” And he slid his finger deep inside me and started to thrust it in and out resolutely but gently, perfectly aware of what it was doing to me. Then, to maximize my torment, he added the second finger, stretching my walls deliciously, slightly adding on pressure, and I realized I was unconsciously lifting and rocking my hips to meet him and his mouth. His eyes grew hazy with lust and his hungry gaze hung on my core before he brought his lips back down.

He continued to lick and suck at me intently and soon I was a shaking and whimpering mess, waiting for him only to take me once more and let me have my release in whatever way he wanted me to have it, and further prove his control over me. But the time was passing and he did not even try to undress, and suddenly I was so bewildered and worn with the passion and tension that he unlocked in me, that I knew I could hold back no longer.

“Thorin!” I orgasmed with his name on my lips and he held my hand tight in his as the hot waves shook my body from the top to the bottom. This was the sweetest and strangest experience with him sofar, and I remained lying on my back, waiting for him to join me and finish what was started.

But he did not move.

He watched me from the space between my thighs, his lips wet with my juices, the tips of his mouth curved in a smile, his eyes turned to me, exploring, enjoying all the changes in my expression.

He slowly stood up and looked down at the huge bulge in his trousers. Then he mounted the bed and leaned in to kiss me deep. His raven hair fell around my face and shielded both of us in a wild, wavy curtain from the outside world. I tasted myself from his lips.

“We will finish it next time,” he said silently, watching me closely, drinking in my astonished expression. I guess it gave him some sick satisfaction to suddenly switch between giving and taking. His face appeared now strangely peaceful and at ease, as if he returned to me at least a tiny bit of what he had stolen months ago. As if he was trying to redeem himself.

I stared at him wide-eyed, too tired to say anything or perhaps protest (why would I anyway?). Did he really give me pleasure just for the sake of giving?

“Why didn't you do this sooner?” I breathed nearly inaudibly.

“Can you say you were ready?”

“For this? Anytime!”

“I would have done it much sooner, had you asked for it nicely,” he explained seriously. “It is a reward, my dear. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Oh. Then I am grateful for this kind of reward, Thor-” I covered my mouth with my  hand.

But Thorin only smiled.

“You may call me by my name when we are alone. But  _ only _ when we are alone.”


	30. Chapter 30

The strangest thing was that since that day, I slept sound as a child. I knew of no nightmares, no orcs chased me in my dreams and I suddenly felt light-headed as if a huge burden fell from my shoulders. I could breathe again. It was because of Thorin, obviously. He noticed I looked more refreshed in the mornings that followed, and asked for the reason. I told him.

“I am glad to hear that, Kate. That is the best news over the past few weeks,” he said as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

What made me a little worried though was the nearing royal wedding and Thorin's departure. There was organized chaos everywhere, the maids and servants were running around the corridors, carrying various packages and chests here and there, only to bring them back when they were rejected by their supervisors. They had to pack Dis` personal things which would help her bring a piece of Erebor with her, and an army of seamstresses worked day and night to sew new robes worth the future queen, as well as gifts to her new acquaintances. Dis looked a little paler than usual but she bore the erratic preparations with a dignity of her own. I knew she would make it.

Thorin let me sleep by him the last three nights before they left. It felt as if he was leaving me forever, and in some moments I noticed a subtle regret in his eyes. I asked him if he would take me with him but he rejected me with the explanation that I was a slave and there was no place for slaves on such an occasion, not even if I accompanied him for personal reasons. And he would not be bringing me close to Éomer, he emphasized gravely, clenching his jaw. I understood.

On the day before the departure he called for me and when I approached him to greet him properly, he grabbed something from the table and handed it to me. It was a uniquely ornamented dagger with a handle adorned in dark red gems, very small, but it felt very natural in my hand.

“It fits you perfectly,” said Thorin with a satisfied smile as he watched me play with it. “It is small but that is its strength. It is a good weapon.” And he squeezed my hand wrapped around the handle and held it for a brief moment.

Then, out of the blue, he asked: “Will you miss me?”

It was more a joke than a serious question, but it still held its weight, by the hungry way he sought the answer in my eyes. I looked down at his hand holding mine, warmly, tightly, in silent anticipation. I hesitantly opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me, suddenly letting go off my hand as if it had burnt him.

“Do not answer.” 

It was so surprising to see him this way, actually  _ afraid _ of receiving an unwelcome answer. I let him think whatever he wanted though. I was not sure what to tell him myself. For now, it was more yes than no, and it scared me to think I could actually learn to have feelings for him, my captor. Despite all he had done. And, actually, just because of it all.

He paused for a while, looking out of the window. After what felt like ages, he finally turned to me, his face relaxed and composed.

“Take good care, little one. I am taking Dwalin with me but Balin will be in charge of Erebor while I am away.” And he stroked my hair a few times, saying no more words. Then he released me.

They left next morning, an impressing caravan of several dozens of dwarvish nobles and warriors, servants, pages and accompanying soldiers. I watched them depart, Dis seated in a roofed carriage, Thorin and Dwalin at the head of the winding snake of travellers. I was glad I had said my goodbyes with Dis the day before - she accepted my congratulations and wishes with a soft smile and I could tell she was a little moved by my words. She thanked me and said she wished me luck in whatever fate would prepare for me in Erebor. She held both my hands in hers for a brief moment as she spoke.

“Do speak to Thorin, make him understand you. I have always thought it was you of all his women who could make the difference. Prove me I was right. Not for you, but for the sake of my dear brother. Mahal knows he deserves it.”

I exhaled. “Oh. Why do you think of me so?”

“Because you are two sides of the same coin, two opposites which complete each other. You can learn a lot from him and he from you, if he is willing to listen. You already have his full attention, don't you dare to lose it.” She spoke passionately, so very much resembling Thorin as she frowned, but then her features lit and she smiled at me reassuringly and squeezed my hand lightly before letting it go.

“I will remember that, my Lady,” I smiled back at her.

 

XXX

 

I watched the caravan from the long window in Thorin's chamber. I sneaked in to have a better view of what was going on, I did not feel like coming out publicly and see them off. Thorin's form mounted on his black stallion at the head stood out even from the distance, but it disappeared in a few moments as the ceaseless line moved on. 

He never turned back to seek me out.

 

XXX

 

My days grew long and lonely once again. I'd never have thought it could happen, that I could have so get used to his presence which dominated my thoughts and deeds. I performed my daily activities as I was used to: I tended to his chambers, practised my harp playing, it's only that I interrupted my sword-fighting lessons as Dwalin had left, too. 

On one evening when I felt particularly abandoned, I randomly decided to sneak in Thorin's chamber. There could still be his masculine scent lingering on his pillow and I needed it against all reason or rational thought. As I headed for his chambers, I was astonished when the soldier who guarded the red corridor looked around as if to check who was listening and then halted me, saying:

“Nobody is permitted into His Majesty`s quarters except for cleaning purposes. Not even you, slave.” He looked at me sharply and slightly pushed me away with his spear.

“You can't be serious! His Majesty would encourage me to enter!” I argued, angered and at the same time perplexed at this sudden change of routine. I made an attempt to sneak past him, but me pushed me away with extra force, frowning, eyeing me scornfully. I hit his armour hard, and whimpered in pain.

“Who gave the order?!” I yelled.

“Leave!” he spat and raised his spear in a warning of the coming attack.

“Alright, tomorrow we`ll see who has the right to enter!” I threatened, making a mental note to come to Balin early next morning and ask for an explanation. This must be some mistake, I was more than sure.

I retired in my chamber, all angry and teary from the frustration of being so rejected like the lowest mangy dog. I didn't like the way the guard looked around the corridor before he actually spoke to me. There was something very wrong about it, something I could not put my finger on.

I sat on my bed for a good while, looking out of the window, and then my gaze fell on Thorin's gift - the small dagger adorned with red gems - lying on the table. I stared at it, then took it in my hand, until I suddenly squeezed the handle hard. Time may come that I need it. There might be enemies in Erebor, mine or Thorin's. Most probably Thorin's because I was too unimportant to catch anybody's attention. We must be careful. I shot a quick glance at the door and cursed - I was still not given the key to my door, I was everybody`s property, as I was once told. Gritting my teeth, I lay down on the bed and listened carefully to all the nightly noises, the wind howling in the chimney, wood of the window frames creaking, all my senses suddenly alarmed.

But the night drew steadily near and I exhausted myself enough to fall into a shallow, disturbed sleep.

 

XXX

 

I awoke to a distant, subdued noise. I could not make out what it was until I opened my eyes and blinking the dreams away, looked around the chamber which swam in the blackness of a moonless night. The shadows grew longer while I slept and my eyes took their time to adjust to the dark.

Then a face peered at me from the nothingness, a distant, pale face which looked somewhat familiar, and then another one, levitating at the foot of the bed, just as a ghost. I thought it was another vision, some greeting from another world, until it came close enough and I could feel its breath on my face. Suddenly I remembered it belonged to a soldier - the soldier who escorted me to Thorin's chamber on that memorable night when Éomer made his advances during the feast, and started the chain of inevitable events. The other face belonged to another soldier but I could not match him with a particular position. Then I remembered the guard`s yesterday`s strange behaviour and was wide awake instantly.

“What are you doing here?!”

None of the faces replied but the one which belonged to the escort drew nearer. I shrunk under the blanket and at that moment realized I was still holding the dagger I had obviously fallen asleep with. I squeezed the handle tight.

“Shhhh… We will show you somewhere you will like more,” the dwarf finally spoke and reached for the blanket to uncover me. As he did it, I jumped to my feet and two things happened simultaneously.

Reaching out with my dagger, I stabbed him in the chest with a muffled scream. I could feel the dagger slide on a bone and it remained stuck in his chest between the ribs. His eyes widened in shock, he swore and fell to his knees, bringing his hand to the wound. He ripped the dagger out of his flesh and a pool of blood gushed out in a geyser, flowing on the carpet at the foot of my bed, a few black drops sprinkling even my face. The weapon fell out of his hands.

The other intruder, seeing my assault on his fellow, rushed in to his help from the other side, and as my gaze lingered on the fallen enemy only a second longer than necessary, he reached out for me. At the edge of my sight I could see something move in my direction, and then I felt a blow in my head. Sharp pain exploded in my skull and I wondered why it didn't break in an instant. A thousand bloody circles flew in front of my eyes as I collapsed to the floor face-down.

“Filthy bitch!” the attacker spat and strode to me, now that I was half-unconscious and unable to resist. He stood right above me, his feet on the outsides of my hips, holding a heavy battle axe, and turning it towards me hilt-first, he hit me once more.

All went dark in an instant.

 

XXX

 

My first conscious thought was: I have killed a man.

The second thought however belonged to the sharp pain in my head and belly and the weird swaying motion.

I opened my eyes to the blackest darkness, the kind that makes you shiver with unbearable cold in the last moments of the night just before it shifts to early dawn. I realized I was lying face-down on a horseback, my hands and feet tied under its belly, my head was spinning not only with the pain from the blow but also from the swaying movements of the animal`s hips. My stomach was pressed enormously and I felt nauseous. The worst was that I was gagged with some filthy cloth and could not throw up even if I wanted to. All I could do was release a muted, soft cry.

The horse was tied to another one riding in front of it. On it was mounted a dark figure of my abductor, clad in a black robe with a hood over his head. By the way he held himself in the saddle I guessed he was a dwarf, most probably the one who pacified me and caused all this. Otherwise we seemed to be alone, riding through a beech forest. In which direction, I could not tell. I wrung and tried to catch his attention by crying into the cloth in my mouth but he turned to me only once, hissing:

“Silence or your head feels my axe once more!”

It was efficient enough a threat to make me go very quiet. My eyes filled with tears but I did not allow myself the liberty to cry like this, gagged. We continued in silence and I soon noticed my captor was proceeding in front of me with utmost attention to any sounds or signs of danger. It took us whole day until we got where he seemed to feel safer from being discovered. He dismounted, untied me and I slid down the saddle like a sack of potatoes; but he caught me mid-air by my nightgown and I did not hit the ground, luckily. He yanked me fiercely when I tried to remove the damn cloth with my now free hands, and dragged me to the closest tree where he tied me down once again. Only then did he rid me of the gag and produced a skin-bottle which he brought to my lips. I drank the water eagerly because I was not allowed to quench my thirst whole day. Once I finished and he himself drank, I could not help but ask:

“Where are you taking me?”

“No questions or I give you no water for the rest of the journey. It's enough that you killed Ovil, you slut! Who would have thought?!” He spat bitterly, the last question was directed more to himself than to me. His dead companion seemed too close to him and I did not dare to irritate him even more, although my chest filled with the faintest shade of pride at his words.

That was our only conversation and I did not have means to make him speak any more. After we finished our poor food which consisted of a slice of bread and a piece of cheese, he gagged me once again, and lying under the opposite tree with his saddle under his head, he closed his eyes for the first time after the whole night`s journey. I pulled at my ties but of course they were pretty tight; I pulled again, writhed and even rubbed them against the tree trunk to tear them, but to no avail. The only result was that my wrists were all bruised and a few drops of blood stained the rope. I was desperate. I was wondering if it was already discovered in Erebor that I went missing. Surely, there was no Thorin to notice that I did not perform my daily duties, but I was sure my disappearance would not go unnoticed for very long. It was late afternoon, someone must have started to search for me already.

Balin. Or Amarth. Anyone.

But all I could do now was get as good a rest as the circumstances allowed. Perhaps I could find a way to escape even before the rescue team arrives.

 

XXX 

We were heading south.

That is what I realized when the dwarf changed the direction once again, to make it more difficult for anyone who might be following us. And this time we kept it for longer than usual. I was starting to feel even more uneasy as a silent foreboding crept in from the back of my mind. The south - was it not where Rohan actually lay?

A few more hours and my bad feeling turned into reality; when we were approached by a lonely rider, this time in a human form, tall and proud in his saddle, mounted on his horse and riding so naturally as if he had done it from the day he was born, as if he drank the wind of the wild planes along with his mother`s milk. His blond hair cascaded down his shoulders in a golden waterfall, making him look almost like an angel, but it were his dark green eyes that betrayed his true intentions. And I did not like them at all.

They exchanged a few words with my captor, along with a little but heavy-looking sack of what could have only been gold. The dwarf weighed it in his hand.

“What about Ovil`s reward?” he said, frowning. “The witch killed him when we took her.”

“Then he does not need his money anymore,” the rider replied mockingly, beckoning the dwarf to hand over the reins of my horse. His nostrils twisted in contempt as if he was speaking to the lowest stinking beggar. His greenish eyes slid over the dwarf`s form, assessing him, and his hand reached to his side to rest on the hilt of his sword. An efficient gesture of threat.

“Don`t fuck with me, horseman, you know pretty well what I can do with the information. Or with you.”

The man's eyes held the dwarf`s gaze directly and fiercely for a few moments and I already thought they would start to fight, but just then the man grinned with disgust. He reached into the saddle`s side bag and produced another bag full of coins. He threw it to my captor who caught it mid-air.

“Choke on your greediness, dwarf.”

The latter laughed out darkly and still grining, handed the reigns of my horse to the tall man.

“Tell your master she is not worth the effort. She will do him no good,” he spat and turned to leave.

Ignoring him, the horseman now leaned in to me and pulled out the gag out of my mouth.

“It will not be needed anymore, am I right?” He said silently.

I shook my head angrily, bringing my tied hands to my mouth to massage the cracked skin of my lips and aching jaw muscles.

“Just one more question, if I may,” I whispered. He nodded shortly and looked around to check the surroundings now that he took over the dangerous package that was me.

I turned to the dwarf who was already leaving and asked: “Why all this? Are you not afraid of your king?! You owe me this last answer.”

The dwarf halted his horse and his dark eyes pierced me, and had they not been full of hate, they would have reminded me of Thorin's, so passionate about everything.

He snarled. “Because of the money, of course. And one more thing. A woman who can make such a fool of a king must be eliminated by all means.”

“What do you mean?!”

“He's losing himself. He's become more careless and consistent since he's been fucking you, his human whore, for everybody to see. He's losing respect among some.” he spat contemptuously. When he saw my shock and utter confusion, an ugly grin spread on his face, and he spoke, pushing his hate a bit further. “And it suits certain circles. Things are moving on, but you won't be there to witness his fall. You`ll rot where you belong, among your kin.” At the edge of my sight, the tall horseman stirred uncomfortably in his saddle and pulled at my horse's reins.

“What?! Who are they? What are they planning?” I cried at him, completely forgetting myself.

“I don't know and don't care. I'm not returning to Erebor anyway, to hell with it.” He took in the air noisily and spat in my direction. “It's too late, whore.”

“Not for Thorin! He will find out and have your heads before you even notice!” I yelled at him, trying to show I was not afraid of him or his contacts, but deep inside I was not sure if this rebellion or putsch could be suppressed. What did I know about Erebor`s state affairs, after all? Little to none.

“Want to bet?” He smirked, his contorted face gleaming with satisfaction that he managed to hurt me even more; and thus finishing our short conversation, he urged his horse into a soft gallop. He soon disappeared among the near trees and I followed him with my angered glare. If only looks could kill, he would be a thousand times dead!

I turned to the man. I was so furious that I immediately started to bargain with him as if I knew him. “Can you set me free? My king will reward you generously if you return me to him, I'm sure.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I am bound by an oath to  _ my _ master. I fear it is not possible.”

“What if he doubled-tripled the reward? Please! I'm sure- ”

“No.”

“Then can I least send him a message? You`ve heard what`s going on, I need to warn him! I don't even have to sign it and send my current position, I`ll just-”

“Stop it! There is no other way.” Close to losing his patience now, he looked down at his hand which was still holding the cloth he had pulled out of my mouth, and then back at me, questioningly. I understood and shut my mouth, at which he grinned.

He shook his head, somewhat amused.

“Women.”

  
  



	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> the story is getting more angsty. Still I hope you like it :) Please leave comments :)

It took us other two days to reach the place where we were headed. We continued further to the south and my new captor refused to give me any more details, although, I had to admit, he behaved much more politely than his dwarvish predecessor. What good did it do to me, though? I feared none at all. I was still a piece of a package which needed to be moved from one place to another, as quickly and silently as possible.

There were still no signs of rescue. At night when all went still, I listened to the surrounding sounds with hope, to birds singing (that's always how you give signals in the movies, right?), to any nightly creatures; sometimes I thought I had seen a movement at the edge of my sight, but when I turned in the direction, I immediately knew I had but imagined it, sadly. Nothing interrupted our journey at the slightest, and I started to despair.

Until, at last, we came upon a clearing in the middle of a deciduous forest, where at its edge stood a hut. A small one, with just two windows and uninviting front door, looking utterly abandoned. There we dismounted and the rider lead me inside, keeping his hand pressed against my back, between my shoulderblades. He gently pushed me in.

I looked around the only room of which the hut consisted. It was dark, the only outstanding feature an empty unused hearth, and any furniture was missing. Except an empty bucket in the corner. It reminded me of something. The dungeon in the heart of Erebor. Suddenly feeling very cold, my throat all painfully tight, I turned to the man who was towering behind me against the light shining in from the door like a dark angel of revenge.

“What are you planning to do?” I whispered in shaky voice.

Without a word of explanation, he took out a knife and brought it to my wrists. He cut the rope which had tied them. I slowly massaged the bruised skin and did a few stretching movements to help the blood circulate into my fingers. They felt numb once again.

“So what are your plans? I bet there are ways we can sort it-” I did not finish the sentence.

I slipped past his massive torso through the door and ran out of the hut as quickly as I never thought possible, around the hut and into the wood. I continued a little further into the dark to hide behind thick undergrowth. I heard him swear juicily from behind me but then he went all silent, so silent I could not even hear his footsteps. I squatted in my hiding, covering my mouth to silence my disturbed, panicked breath, my heart pounding its way out of my chest. It echoed in my own ears and I mentally cursed as well because it distracted me. But nothing moved as far as I could see. I backed away slowly, keeping my head low, placing my feet on the mossy forest floor carefully and as silently as I possibly could.

Until I stepped on a twig. It was no more than a whisper which resounded in the suddenly so still air, but when I turned around to run, the tall man was already standing there, reaching for me with his hand protected by an iron glove. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards him. I screamed but it only seemed to anger him, for he yanked me by force and headed towards the hut. I fought and kicked him, and as he tightened his grip over my arm, the metal of his armoured hand pressed into my flesh and I squealed.

“Silence! I am obliged to deliver you without any damage but you are giving me no choice! Calm yourself!” He stormed, holding me by my shoulder with one hand, with the other reaching for my chin. He held my face up by force so that I faced him, making me look him in the eyes. His silvery armour shone brightly at me as it caught the sunlight from behind the branches, and it blinded me for a split second, stinging in my eyes. I reached for the knife hanging from his belt but it was pitifully far, and I cried out in frustration. Seeing that, he grabbed both of my hands now, forced me to bend forward, and keeping my hands behind my back but pulling them up as far as my joints allowed, made me walk in this awkward and painful position. An efficient, well-trained soldier. If only his skills were used differently.

Once we were back in the hut, he let my hands go and pushed me further in. Then he stepped back.

“Make yourself comfortable. You will spend here quite some time,” he said with once again blank face.

I ran towards him but he was quick enough to slam the door shut in front of my nose. I heard the key move in the keyhole and as I turned to look around the room for any other escape, I saw the shutters move and heard as they were being bolted from the outside.

Darkness fell over the room and I was left alone with my tears and black thoughts.

 

XXX

 

I was halfway through reminiscing my previous life - since my childhood, to the moment when I was miraculously transported to Arda - when a memory of Thorin squeezing my hand gently and asking if I would miss him flashed in front of my eyes. I held on to it much longer than necessary before I for the hundredth time moved on to the possible ways of escaping from here. The windows were bolted from the outside and the door remained locked (except when the soldier entered to feed me and take out the bucket). There was the hearth, its chimney had not been dusted for ages as I could say by the thick layer of dust and soot, and I very soon learnt its shaft was far too narrow and slithery for anyone to climb through it, even if there were any protrusions. Of course I begged the soldier to show some humanity and let me out, but he grew more irritated with every such conversation, and I gave up when I saw the determined rejection written all too stubbornly in his face. Maybe later.

I clung to the idea that the dwarves would come to rescue me, no matter how and when, I would just have to wait. I went missing for good three days now, Balin or Amarth must have noticed and taken their steps. I have killed a man. There is the corpse, it could not have just vanished, and the bloodstains on the furniture or linen, and me - gone. I had no idea how my abductor managed to smuggle me through the front gate though. But that was not important. Thorin did find me despite much harsher conditions, in icy white winter with my footprints covered by snow and my scent blown away by the wind. It was summer now, the weather was quite pleasant and warm, nearly ideal for a hunt. I snarled at the idea. I wish for another hunt, to be found and taken back, how absurd.

I imagined Thorin coming through the door any second by now, covering me with his blue cloak and helping me walk back to his horse. I imagined him smile at me apologetically and say he was sorry for taking so long because he had to ride all the way from Edoras. In my thoughts, I forgave him a thousand times over, in advance. Just let him come, my rescuer. My hand travelled to the precious pendant hidden under my nightgown, the nightgown I was still wearing as I was given no proper clothes until now. The jewel felt warm on my skin, glittering and beautiful; a memory of the man who gave it to me. My man, my... everything. My heart throbbed painfully at his bittersweet image imprinted in my mind. It was an irony of fate that I should lose him now, now that I discovered what he meant to me.

Then an image came to me of Thorin ambushed by his enemies. What was the damn dwarf talking about? Did Thorin really have enemies strong enough to dethrone him, or perhaps even worse? Was this why he was so late to save me? Why would they choose this time to make their plans happen? But then again, why not? My mind travelled back in time to when I escaped and what followed thereafter; was Thorin aware of what was going on in his kingdom? Was this why he told me every step of his was being watched and assessed by his subjects? Did he really have a legitimate reason for my punishment?!

I tortured myself like this for long hours. But they passed slowly and quietly and nothing happened. I ordered myself to think of what I would do first thing when I returned to Erebor. What would it be? I would most definitely head for the bathhouse. And then have a long, refreshing sleep in my comfortable bed. Or Thorin's. He would take me in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in my ear until I fell asleep, in his deep velvety voice, as he used to when I was upset. Right, that's it. Thorin will make things right, as always. I held this image in my mind for as long as I could, before it slipped away in the void.

Later that day, I was shaken from my stupor by the sound of hooves beating against the ground. I jumped to my feet, my heart beating wildly, and I listened carefully, trying to catch the echo of a familiar voice.

Then there was the sound of the key in the keyhole, and the door opened. I was momentarily blinded by the sudden intrusion of light, but when my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day, I backed a few steps.

“So, how are we doing, Kate Evans? I believe you have already made yourself comfortable in this hut. It is rather poor, I have to admit, but sadly, that will have to do, for our intentions,” came a familiar voice, but not the one I so longed to hear.

“Éomer. Still the same bastard?”

He made a disapproving face and walked in self-consciously, his shiny armour clanking just as heavily as I remembered it. He stood a few steps away from me, and took his time to slide his gaze across me, from toe to top, across my humble light nightgown. Thanks to all the gods it was summer or I would be freezing. My bare toes twitched at the thought against the rough wooden floor.

“You have grown your tongue since the last time. Is it because Thorin is not present to chastise you? Never mind, I can handle it my way,” he smirked and stepped closer. “Still so beautiful, well worth the sin.” He licked his lower lip.

“Let me go.”

“Silly, of course I cannot do it even if I wanted to. I have gone too far now.”

“No, there is still time to make things right. If you release me now, nobody will learn anything, we can make a deal. Thorin- ” I stopped for a moment to correct myself. “His Majesty does not need to know. There will be no consequences for you. Perhaps you could still marry his sister,” I pushed him proudly. I realized I was now acting as the king's mistress, so very well conscious of her status in his bed and thoughts that she could actually talk  _ for _ him.

“Thorin?” he raised his brows in a mocking ignorance. “Do you really think you are that important that he would risk losing Rohan as an ally? The wedding will take place tomorrow as planned, of course, with Thorin participating as our valued guest. He is oblivious of what is happening to you right now. But even if he knew, I would not count on his interfering. He has other business back in Rohan and I doubt he would like to interrupt it.”

“What do you mean?!”

“My sister, of course. I have offered Éowyn to Thorin upon his arrival. A rather unexpected offer, but it is a good match. She will keep him occupied for quite some time, he will not even think of his little slut.” His mouth widened in a wry smile. I could see he was really enjoying this and hated him all the more.

“I don't believe you!” I spat, but felt my blood rushing into my cheeks.

“Why not? My sister is a beautiful noblewoman, raised to become a queen. She can make good speeches and is by far the best female rider and archer in the country. Nobody can stand her. Forget about Thorin.”

“No! Release me now or Thorin will kill you when he learns!” I yelled at him, more unsure than sure of my words now.

“You are forgetting one important thing,” he said slowly, and I knew I would not like what he was going to say. “You have escaped from your master. All of Erebor now think you have escaped once more, all the evidence was taken care of. Nobody will be searching for you here for a very long time. At least not until I have what I want,” he said victoriously and my heart sank. Seeing my expression change, he offered in feigned surprise. “Did you not know?”

I did not speak, momentarily lost in the turmoil of hate and pain; and I felt he might be right. My disappearance might really look like an escape, if...

“You are mine. As I said, you can forget about Thorin, he is dead for you now,” he said slowly, and stepped closer, his voice coming very low now.

“Tell me, Kate, how long has it been since you`ve had a real man?” It were not his words which made me shiver with disgust but his tone; the tone of sheer malevolence, dry, deep and strangely intimate as he spoke. He smelled of the wind and old wood and wine, and though the scent was not an unpleasant one, I suddenly felt nauseous.

“That`s none of your business! Don't come closer or you`ll regret it!” My voice now rose in height.

“Tell me, did Thorin claim your behind? I have always wanted to do it, have a taste of how you feel there. Are you as tight as I have always imagined?” He spoke in a husky voice now, taking another step closer. Too close.

“Don`t come closer, you bastard! I swear I will kill you!” I shouted at him, disgusted,  angry but not afraid, suddenly not afraid. Never again!

Smirking widely, he took hold of my hair and dragged me closer to himself. At that moment I regretted Thorin had not cut all of my hair off. Éomer leaned in and kissed me, his lips hard and cold against mine, and he licked at my mouth and cheek up towards my ear. Then he hastily returned to my mouth, and when he tried to push his tongue into my mouth, I bit him mercilessly.

He immediately let go off me, swearing. He brought his fingers to his lips, eyes wide with shock and disbelief, and then he noticed the blood running down from his tongue, and dripping from his chin. His features hardened in rage, his hand raised high, made into a fist, frozen in the air for a split second.

I closed my eyes before the inevitable. But the expected blow did not come.

He let out a long breath to compose himself, forcing his voice to sound steady.

“I do not beat women as Thorin,” he said, slowly putting his hand down.

“I see you have done a thorough research,” I returned contemptuously.

“Rumours have come even to my ears,” he said, grinning. He licked at the blood on his lips, bringing the back of his hand to his mouth to wipe it clean, only to smear the blood across his skin even more. “I honestly do not understand what you see in him. I can treat you better than he, in a way. I prefer other ways to make a woman submit.”

“Probably if you bastard didn't try to fuck my ass first thing, all would be easier! Look at yourself, how far have you gone because you think with your dick! Abduct a woman? I'm sick of you and your violence, all of you! Just let me all be for once.”

At those words he tilted his chin upwards, eyeing me suspiciously.

“As you wish, I will let you be. I will give you enough time to think, with a little help which will make things easier.”

Then he stepped back and shouted at the door.

“Guard!”

A few seconds later the soldier guarding me showed up, a question written in his eyes. He was frowning, I could bet he had heard it all.

“No food for her until my next visit, only water, is that understood?” he commanded, his eyes never leaving mine as he spoke.

“Aye, sire,” came the guard`s answer. A little late, a little too hesitant, but there it was.

“Good,” Éomer said. He walked to the door, and just before stepping out, he turned to me once more. His golden long hair shone bright in the daylight, creating an almost glittering aureola above his head. He looked divine, in spite of his actions. I saw his gaze travelling across my body down to my hand which was now unconsciously clasping my little secret, the shiny pendant to which I clung so hard with all my remaining hope.

“What is  _ that _ ?” he returned in his tracks and reaching out made me uncover the pendant. “Mithril? Thorin gave you  _ mithril _ ?!” he asked in awe.

I did not answer. I did not want to admit that it held great value for me. But it obviously did not matter as he grinned at me knowingly. “You will no longer need it here. All you need is to forget.” And he grasped the necklace and pulled at it aggressively; the movement made me stumble forward and I was yanked towards Éomer violently. He pulled at it once more with even more strength but the solid metal chain did not tear and I hissed as it cut the skin at the back of my neck.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

“Give it to me!” he ordered impatiently.

“No way!” I tried to push him away, but a sword suddenly appeared in his hand and he resolutely pointed its polished length at my throat. I hesitated and he used the moment to sweep me to the floor face down and pressing his knee against my shoulder blades made me lie down. Then he unbuckled the necklace, here and there pulling painfully as I fought him and then finally stood up with a victorious laugh.

“Burn in hell!” I hissed with tears stinging in my eyes.

“Of course. Until then, I will do with you as I wish. And now it is my wish that you reconsider you attitude towards me. When you feel the worst in the deep of the night, just think of Thorin fucking my sister, and you will soon come to a desirable decision, the only one available. I wish to be welcomed with open arms next time we meet.” He looked around the single empty room. “I will have somebody bring a proper mattress.”

After those words he smirked and walked out of the hut, and I heard his armour clank as he disappeared in the bright blinding light of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I REALLY liked Eomer before I started to write this story. I`ve never thought I could make him such a bastard but his words come so naturally when I write him. Now he`s all ruined for me and it`s all my fault. I`ll never see him the same way. *sigh*
> 
> Edoras - the capital of Rohan


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> I have decided to describe the following two chapters from Thorin`s point of view :) Kate`s first person POV is very personal but sometimes it complicates things because she can only describe what she saw or did personally. Now that she doesn`t know what is happening on the other side of the world, I felt we would lose an important part of the story by not describing what is happening to Thorin. This is a unique opportunity to get inside his head, so enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it :) . Now let Thorin do himself the justice and step in.

The large hall was full of guests, feasting, celebrating, eating, drinking and laughing happily. The servants kept carrying in the plates full of the most delicious dishes and jars of vintage wine and ale. All were merry and cheering, there were outbursts of laughter here and there which interrupted the cheerful talk of both parties, the natives and the dwarves alike.

At the head of the large rectangular table sat the bride with her bridegroom, beautiful with her raven hair adorned with mithril and gems and skin fairer than the snow. She was smiling decently and her eyes gleamed with secret light. At her side Éomer, tall, proud and trustworthy, Marshal of Riddermark, the guardian of law. He was looking down at her as he gently talked to her, here and there leaning closer to whisper something in her ear. Little sweet secrets of the newly-weds. They made a lovely couple, for all to see.

Thorin was seated to the right of Dis as an honoured guest, starting the line of other dwarves which followed until the far end of the wing of the table. His eyes travelled from their faces towards Dis, then to Éomer and all the way back. He raised his goblet to sip the sweet wine absentmindedly; it was not as strong as the wine from Erebor, but it still tasted delicious. He returned the goblet back on the table and his eyes darted to Théoden,  King of Riddermark, the tired old man whose best years were clearly long gone. He surely will not last long, Thorin thought pragmatically. Théoden leaned his frail torso in to a lady seated next to him, and spoke to her silently.

Éowyn. What a beauty.

As she spoke to the old man, she occasionally sent a glimpse in Thorin's direction.

Thorin set aside the goblet and rose from his seat. He strode towards the two, bowed slightly, and spoke.

“May I ask for the lady`s dance?”

Éowyn smiled, her expression more detached than warm, and offered to him her hand. He took it in his, and led her theatrically aside, to a parkett where a few couples danced to the merry music. He swirled her around and her long blond curls whirled around her, sending delicate scent in his direction; the scent of wind, grass and fresh water of the vast plains. They did not talk much. She was looking at him with her huge clear eyes, so delicate and noble in all the ways possible, her spine erect, her walk so sure, a perfect woman, a perfect queen, if he would so choose. A little too cool, he thought. A little too detached, but that would change with time. Let us try her.

He changed the direction so that they approached the end of the parkett where the hall was aligned with a series of thick wooden columns. He gently dragged her away, towards one of the columns, and circled it with her so that they were now hidden from the crowd. Shielded. He slowly leaned in to her, making her back just a step or two towards the wood, and brought her hand to his lips.

“My lady, may I steal a kiss of yours? You look stunning tonight.”

Her eyes glittering, she smiled more mechanically than he had expected.

“Aye,” she whispered and offered her lips innocently. Taking advantage of that offer, he embraced her, pressing his body against her just as gently as he possibly could, and kissed her. Her lips felt soft but remained pressed together in a tight line, her shoulders tense and rigid. He did not like it. He intensified the embrace just a little more, opening his mouth to lick at her lower lip. She did not expect it and opened her mouth to speak, and his tongue immediately sneaked inside to explore where probably no other man`s tongue had been before. He deepened the kiss, grasping her tiny waist with his left hand, the other one going into her hair.

Nothing.

Nothing inside him stirred. He let go off her, stepping away.

“Sire, no more before we are wed,” she spoke silently but proudly.

So she already considered it a deal. An arranged thing. When did it happen that he became so predictable? He frowned. It was true that Éomer had once made a remark of a possible betrothal, another bond between the kingdoms. And it was true he said he would think about it, but no more. From political perspective it was not needed anymore, now that one bond was already sealed, just today. Éowyn was beautiful, perhaps even wise, but she was so cold and rigid that it made his body hair stand. She considered it her duty, and the kiss felt just the same, a duty of a married woman in an arranged marriage. He could honestly not think of taking her to his bed, it would very likely be a very dissatisfying experience. A human female, but so very different. Just the exact opposite of… Kate. He could not believe he was thinking of her now and it angered him. Still, he could not deny she felt so very different; reluctant at the beginning, but so eager just recently. He swallowed hard just at the thought of her body and silent, tortured moans when he bedded her, and immediately felt a bulge forming in his pants. Right. That was what he needed to know.

He took another step back. He brought her hand once again to his lips.

“My lady, I do not think that will happen. You do not need to worry.”

And he led her towards the safety of the merry crowd and seated her back into her chair next to the king. She sent him a shocked look before he bowed his head and walked away, but he was far beyond caring anymore.

He took his former place in the line of dwarvish guests and reached for his goblet. Now that he thought of it, it was Kate`s duty as well to tend to his needs. And she did it excellently, albeit reluctantly. He knew he was being harsh, but could not help it. It delighted him beyond measure to feel her pain. Yet lately, he grew to like her smile, her silent joy when he was being kind and when he offered little trinkets as gifts. He came to enjoy her silent wisdom and knowledge she here and there shared, and the way her eyes shone when she played the harp. Once in a while, it occured to him that she was acting freely in his presence, that he could make her stay without ordering her. There was always this question mark hanging above them; if he freed her, would she stay? Could  _ he _ make her stay without forcing her? No. He was more than sure that once a free woman, she would never let him touch her, let him in her bed. And it angered and saddened him, and worst of all, made him feel helpless, the almighty king that he was. He could not let her go, at any cost, even if it meant keeping her in Erebor against her will. What he  _ could _ do though, was to make her stay more pleasant, take it easy on her although he was not sure if he was capable of even that. Well, he could get her a horse. He could teach her to ride, if it was that important to her, to feel more free. Perhaps even let her out occasionally, if she behaved. Of course with a company. It would help him gain her trust. Trust. He brought the goblet to his lips and drank eagerly. If it is not too late, perhaps even trust. She would get used to Erebor, and who knows, perhaps even learn to enjoy her stay… and him. Only the time will tell.

With this, he set the goblet aside along with the heavy thoughts which were driving him mad, and stood up to get some fresh air. At the movement, his knees went a little wobbly, and he had to lean in to the table to steady himself. Right. The wine was strong enough even for a dwarf.

He slowly strode out of the feasting hall where the sounds and dance were already dying out. It was long past midnight, dawn would soon be breaking in, and the bride with her bridegroom had retired long ago. A few drunkards lay spread on or under the table.

The fresh air would do him good, he thought, as he walked around the building and turned the corner to relieve his bladder. Kate. Her trembling body against his, her swollen lips whispering inaudible pleas. At the thought, his cock jumped in his palm even now. Damn. He will have to send Dwalin for a whore; a clean one, not a stable girl, he emphasized in his inner dialogue. They are supposed to stay in Rohan for two more weeks and his tension cannot go unattended that long. And when he returns, he will make up for all to his little slave, for all the nights he had missed. He would make her scream with pleasure and shatter in a million tiny shards in front of his eyes. On her knees or back, to the last drop of sweat, or blood, or sperm.

He was a fool to have even for once entertained the idea of letting her go. To accompany Dis and leave him forever.

He just finished buckling his belt when he heard the sound of hooves in the distance. He turned in that direction - as far as his half-drunken eyes would allow in the dark, he could distinguish a dwarf riding the horse. He looked like a messenger. Strange.

He made a step towards the road when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. He turned around just in time to spot a man - not a man, a dwarf! - stepping in with an axe in his hand, swaying it in the air which had not made a full circle yet. His hand shot in front of him out of pure instinct; he was not thinking, it was the warrior taking control of his actions; and as the axe fell aiming for his skull, he caught it mid-air by the handle, and twisted it so that the attacker lost balance for a split second. They wrestled for a while, muscle against muscle, before Thorin jerked the weapon from his hand and the enemy landed on his knees barehanded. The axe slipped through Thorin`s fingers as he threw it away, and grabbed the other dwarf by the throat.

“Who sent you?!” He roared.

His fingers dug into the throat and the man gasped for air, stretching his hands after him, trying to catch Thorin as well, but to no avail.

“Who sent you? Speak!” he stormed, tightening the grip. “Was it Dagur?!”

The man only laughed until the remaining air in his lungs allowed, and then, hissing, replied: “Never!”

Thorin, in rage strengthened by the wine, continued to strangle him, until his feet started twitching in the last throes.

“Speak!” Thorin loosened the grip but it was too late. The man went limp and his lifeless body slid down to the ground. Thorin took a look at his strain hands, then wiped his forehead and face with his sleeve and stepped back, panting.

Somebody rushed to his side - it was the messenger. Taking in the situation, he decided Thorin was not in danger any more, and fell to his one knee.

“Your Majesty!”

“Speak. What news do you bring? Why did you not send a raven?” Thorin said, taking a look at the corpse, and then turning his attention to the messenger once again.

“Your Majesty. We did send a raven but it disappeared on the way, that is why I am here in person.“ The messenger made a short pause before speaking again. “I am sorry to inform you that your slave is gone.”

Thorin felt his hand clench into a fist. His fingernails dug into his flesh but he took no heed of it.

“What are you saying?!” He growled.

“I am sorry, Your Majesty. There is no trace of her. She went missing some time after you had left. Also, we cannot find two of your personal guards. Balin sent out scouts to search for her in the surroundings and also in the direction where she escaped the last time, but they did not manage to find her in one day. So the raven… and I was sent to inform you. What orders do you give?” the messenger said, keeping his head low.

Thorin was breathing heavily, now angered twice as much, by the attempted murder, his escaped slave, and his incompetent subjects.

“Why the hell did you not send more ravens but lost time riding in person?! She could be anywhere by now, idiots!” he stormed, knowing very well it was not the messenger`s fault.

“Your Majesty, look at my horse. I have nearly killed her.” the man said silently, keeping his eyes downcast. Thorin's eyes wandered to the poor creature. Her muzzle was covered with foam and hips were all sweaty, rising and falling fervently and out of sheer will of the animal to live. She was barely standing.

“I see. But that is no excuse. I will need to talk do Balin.” Thorin took a few deep breaths. “Go tend to your horse, rest, and after you are ready, return to Erebor. I have no message for you now.”

The dwarf`s shoulders relaxed as he heard the order. “Thank you, Your Majesty, I will.”

Thorin did not pay attention to him anymore. He stepped over the corpse, headed towards the feasting hall and found Dwalin there, drunkenly leaning against his chair, but still present. He made him stand up, shouting orders to him and his fellow dwarves.

After a while, in the midst of the turmoil, Éomer showed up from behind the corner. Alone, his hair a little tousled and his clothes crumpled, but his face otherwise relaxed and gleaming. Obviously seeking a drink after the night spent with Dis. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Thorin.

“Was it you?!” Thorin roared.

“What do you mean?” said Éomer innocently, and Thorin frowned.

“You know very well what I mean! Did  _ you _ take her?”

“Dear brother-in-law, I admit I have taken her, as is my right. She is my wife now and I presume there is nothing wrong with it.”  Éomer said slowly, genuine surprise written in his eyes.

“Éomer,” Thorin walked towards him as he spoke, approaching slowly but menacingly, his steps heavy. Now he stood in front of him face to face, so close their eyes levelled. “You know damn well  _ whom _ I speak of! Should I ever find out that you have lied and harmed her in  _ any _ possible way, I swear to Mahal and all the gods that I will kill you myself. And I do not care who you are.”

He kept staring at him, fuming with rage, his brows furrowed, waiting for an answer, for a single blink of an eye which would betray Éomer`s actions. But Éomer did not move nor speak and held his gaze just as stubbornly and proudly.

Thorin swore and turned his back to him, walking towards Dwalin and the other dwarves who were already on their feet wide awake, albeit a little drowsy.

He did not see Éomer swallow hard before he grabbed his goblet of wine and returned to his lovely wife waiting in their bed.

Thorin then turned to Dwalin, saying: “Kate is gone, the messenger will tell you more. I am returning to Erebor with half of our men, but you will stay here. Keep an eye on Dis while I am away, just in case. And on Éomer. Search the palace but keep it secret.” Then he stopped for a while as if to remember what else needed to be said. “And… there is a  corpse lying outside. He tried to assassinate me. Search it, perhaps you will find some evidence of who sent him; he did not want to say more. And then get rid of it silently.”

Dwalin nodded, trying to put in place all the pieces of information that has been thrown onto him. He grunted that he understood and beckoned to two of the dwarves to come with him. Before he left, he remembered to punch Thorin in the chest as a familiar gesture of comfort and saying goodbye at the same time.

Thorin once again looked around the now dead feasting hall. He thought of saying a proper farewell to Dis but then dismissed the idea. He did not have time for that but he was sure she would understand. Dwalin would explain. He stormed in his chamber which he temporarily inhabited, took his belt with his sword and made sure he had not forgotten any weapon of his. Then he rushed out of the chamber, slamming his fist in the wall just as he was passing it. The wall cracked, a bloody stain was left on its surface, but there was nobody to notice, and Thorin at the slightest.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> This chapter will be getting quite heated. It contains graphic depictions of violence and some gore. I hope you`ll like the intensity though :)
> 
> Also, it is longer because quite some things needed to be said.

He rode as the wind, wild with anger, fast with hate, if only he could fly. He urged his horse to a mad run, headed not for Erebor, but for the lake. That was his first choice, the only option where she could have flown; the others did not know her background and so could not have guessed. He was quick but not as quick as he wanted. Driven by rage, he did not sleep, only to get his slave, to catch her, to have her back in his possession. He was beyond himself with the sheer idea that she dared to even think of fleeing again, let alone to put such plan into action; that she dared to lie to him and swear she would never again try to leave if he did not consent. 

He would find her before it was too late, and how he would make her pay for betraying him! He had a thousand ideas in his mind how to do it, fuelled by his disappointment over her actions - especially now that he became more benevolent towards her. What a fool she had made of him, a trusting, ignorant fool! For all to see! He had once threatened to sell her to the slave-traders and thus once and for all seal her fate in his kingdom. But he was not sure if he was capable of keeping his promise, of making that kind of sacrifice. Not even for the sake of keeping the image of authority in front of his subjects, which in the light of the attempted murder did not matter anymore, after all. And especially not now that he let her close, closer than he had ever planned.

But they found nothing at the lake. They searched the entire surroundings for any trace of her, a single track in the fine muddy soil around the bank to prove she tried to enter the water, an imprint in the shape of her body if she slept nearby and waited for convenient weather, or any trace of remains of food, fire or trash. They searched all the roads leading to and from the lake; and the lake itself for her dead body. Nothing, as if she had never been there. There was another option - she could have been delayed on the road or got lost, or perhaps got in trouble. So they kept searching. Nothing. Only when after two days of intense search without an hour of sleep Thorin's head spinned, he realized this was not the way and set off to Erebor. He left most of the soldiers accompanying him all the way from Rohan stationed at the lake to patrol its banks and roads and sent a few to check on the villages and solitary houses on the trajectory from the Lonely Mountain. They were ordered to report to him in case a single grain of sand with connection to her was found.  _ Immediately _ , he emphasized gravely.

Erebor welcomed him with open arms but frozen, guilty apologetic smiles. He called for Balin first, to explain what had happened, right on his way up as he climbed the long staircases, not to waste any more precious time. Balin could not catch his breath as he shared the details, he was long past his young days.

Thorin headed directly to her chamber. He slammed the door open and stood there on the threshold to take in the situation, his eyes darting here and there, his expression that of utter alertness.

“What has changed here?” he barked at Balin.

“Her boots are gone, as are some of her better clothes. She must have been well-prepared. Otherwise we found nothing unusual, Thorin.”

“What about the guards at the gate?! Were they blind?!”

“We interrogated on them, of course, those who held the service on that day. Both of them swear to Mahal they did not see her leave and if they did, they would have stopped her. I have thrown them into the dungeon for now. Will you care to see them?”

Thorin nodded briefly. “Have you searched the mountain?”

“We have, twice. With no results, I'm afraid. She`s gone.”

“Mahal, then what are you waiting for?! Search again! If there is no trace of her in the wild, then she`s inside! You must have overlooked something. Search all the private chambers, store rooms, even the mines and tunnels underneath and I don't care how long they are! She couldn't have just disappeared!”

Balin was listening silently, a virtual map of the mountain appearing in his mind's eye as he tried to estimate how many days it would take to perform such an extensive search even with the soldiers` numbers tripled. But this was about the slave girl and Thorin was uncompromising in any matters related to her. He opened his mouth to speak, to persuade Thorin to let her be; she was not worth the effort after all the attention and help that had been given to her, but seeing Thorin like this made him bite his tongue.

Instead, he just nodded: “Aye. We will extend the search.” He called for a guard standing outside and proceeded to explain to him what needed to be done.

Thorin was fuming but he ordered himself to concentrate. Anger would not help him now, he knew it fairly well. He once again slid his gaze around the chamber, stopping at the bed, the clean floor, the window. He walked towards the wooden chest and opened it, hunching above it, searching through his slave`s humble garments. A dress or two, wool stockings, some underwear. He took the latter out and crumpled it in his fist. He looked at the bed, the blanket rolled aside as if she had just woken up, the linen clean and fresh.

“Did you move anything?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the bed.

“We searched the bed and under it, but the blanket and pillow were put back in the position in which they were found. If this is what you mean.”

Thorin nodded. He walked towards the bed and pulled the blanket all the way to the floor.

“No nightgown! I did not see it in the chest either. Did she… sleep in my chambers?” he raised an eyebrow at Balin.

“I don't think that's the case, Thorin.” Thorin's eyebrow fell back in place. “Would she be that meticulous to pack it and take with her?”

“I would not say. Ask the servants if they can find it in the laundry, by any chance,” Thorin shook his head. He strode to the window, opened it and peeked out, to the left and right, across the rocky surface; uneven, but not enough to serve as a pathway for her tiny feet. No, there was no outside way she could possibly use. He ran his fingers across the window frame, then closed the window. He looked around the room once more.

Something was not right, but he could not put his finger on what and why.

He stood there for a few more minutes, thinking, scrutinising, before he spoke to Balin again.

“Call the guards to my private chamber, I will speak to them myself. Bring to me the person who entered her chamber first after she went missing. If she did not leave, as the guards say, she can still be hiding inside, waiting for the proper moment to sneak out. Although-” he did not finish. He found it most improbable.

 

XXX

 

The interrogation of the guards and servants did not bring any new, helpful  information. Thorin felt tired, exhausted to death from the sleep deprivation; both his body and mind protested against the way he had handled them to reach his goal. Which he, after all, did not reach, and the more he thought about it, the more distant it seemed. He felt the chance of finding her growing thinner with every passing minute, and it maddened him beyond measure to think of her tiny frame slipping through through his fingers this easily, after all that had happened between them.

As the last servant left his chamber deeply bowed, he lay down on the bed just as he was, in his clothes and boots. He slowly exhaled and reached for the pillow. Her sweet scent still lingered on it, after all the days. How was it possible, he thought. Was he just imagining it?

“What have you done?” he mumbled to himself. “Kate, what have you done?”

He took the scent in once more before he fell into the long, refreshing sleep he so deserved.

 

XXX

 

He woke up with a start. He shot a quick glance at the window and could not make out if it was late night or early morning just before the dawn, but it must have been hours since he fell asleep. He felt better though. His body did.

He struggled to his feet, headed for the kitchen to eat something (the servant maiden nearly swooned when she saw him enter, he never did that) and then returned to Kate`s chamber.

He sat on her bed with a heavy sigh. He reached for the blanket and squeezed it between his fingers. It felt fresh, new and clean, as if it had not been used at all. He frowned. Well, the linen could have been changed on the day she left, and we still do not know  _ when _ it was that she left, he remembered. He let the thought go. But he still could not get rid of the ever-returning idea that something was different in this chamber. What the hell was wrong with it?!

Then his gaze fell on the bare floor under his feet.  _ Bare _ floor. There used to be a small carpet spread in front of her bed! Now it was gone.

He was on his feet immediately, striding through the corridor towards the staircase, shouting at the nearest guard to bring Balin to him.  _ Immediately _ , I do not care if he is asleep!

But further interrogations did not shed any more light on the incident. Yes, there was a carpet, but we do not know where it is now. Yes, we will search for it, Your Majesty. But it remained lost, just as Kate. Thorin only had one chance, and that was to wait for the results of the search around the Mountain or hope the soldiers would bring some news from the wild. And the mountain was large. And deep. With thousands of chambers, staircases and hidden passages. And the labyrinth of mines, of course.

 

XXX

 

It was early afternoon of a mild summer day when the would-be peace of Thorin's chambers was interrupted by Amarth`s abrupt visit. He stormed in with the only two sentences on his lips.

“Your Majesty, follow me immediately, please. I have to show you something of utmost importance, and I suggest you take your guards with us.”

He did not need to repeat the words twice; Thorin was on his feet immediately, abandoning anything that he had been doing until now, and followed him downstairs in long, hurried steps. A guard normally stationed at the entrance to the red corridor followed them silently, and soon they were joined by a few others on the way. Amarth explained to him hastily as they made their way down the steep and narrow staircases, leading all the way down to the ground floor and then even further to the underground.

“Perhaps you have already heard, Your Majesty. Yesterday I was called upon a case of what looked like food poisoning. I tended to the poor man and in the midst of the treatment another fellow reported other two cases. It soon became clear it was not food poisoning we were facing but that the disease came from foul water; all the inflicted lived in the vicinity and so they had to use the same spring for drinking or cooking. There were soon a dozen other patients and it was necessary to search for the source of the disease. I took a few men and together we searched the closest mineral spring up to the place where it originated. And we found there something, something you ought to see.”

“Let it be worth the long descent; now that I am busy with another urgent matter,” Thorin frowned.

“Your Majesty, that is for sure, otherwise I would not have bothered you.” Amarth bowed his head. “Just a little further this way.”

They descended into the underground, good five floors beneath the actual level of the earth. There spread dozens of tunnels and corridors forming a huge black labyrinth carved in stone. Thorin remembered most of the places under the mountain as any dwarf would, but they continued even further to the area of the long-abandoned mines. The mithril ore was all used up during the long centuries of excessive mining, so the workers moved on to another part of the mountain.

They turned a corner and strode through a side shaft which led to another long corridor. The air here was suffocating and felt oddly old. Their feet stepped on the mountain rock covered with a thick layer of dust which settled here over time during the mining works. But soon a subtle noise resounded in the silence, the sound of water splashing somewhere near. They approached an underground river, not too wide or deep, its waters cool and black, and in them glittered their torchlight. They strode further on for long minutes, along the stream which turned more narrow and silent as they were approaching its beginning. The dust disappeared, only to be replaced by a thin layer of soil mixed with mud.

A subtle odour entered their nostrils, and it reminded them of something they should know but could not put their finger on what it was. Then the stream narrowed even more and before them opened a large cache all drowning in the blackness. Their nostrils were attacked by another gust of stench, this time unbearable to the point of nausea, and Amarth guided his torch to the far end. They stopped dead in their tracks.

In the far end of the cache sprang tiny stream, and then another one and another, together forming the root of the underground river. There, by the thinnest spring lay a corpse, its leg and arm immersed in the water. Clad in the royal guard's uniform partially taken off, and on one side of its chest opened a hole, uncovering what once was a nasty wound. Its flesh was all swollen, the skin colour changed as far as they could distinguish by the torchlight, its lips half open and glistening black in the process of rotting. By its side lay a roll of some thick cloth.

“Whoever brought him here did not expect the stream would change its current. I suspect the water was not this near when the corpse was taken here. It is highly improbable the man was killed here.” Amarth offered in the calmest of ways, turning towards Thorin.

“How long has it been lying here?” Thorin inquired, his eyes never leaving the corpse.

“By the state of its flesh devastation it could be about a week.”

Without hesitation Thorin grabbed a torch from a guard and strode to the corpse, his nose twisting as he came closer. He took a better look at it when something else caught his attention, something small and shiny glittering in the cold water. He bent down to fish out an ornamented dagger, one he knew very well. He squeezed it in his hand, swearing under his breath, then he kicked the roll with the tip of his boot and in front of him unfurled a carpet, its surface all dried bloodstains.

Her dagger, the bloodstains on her carpet. All evidence pointed to her as a murderer on escape. But why did she kill the guard in her own chamber, what the hell was he doing there? And why would she drag the corpse all the way down here and even get rid of her weapon, the only one she possessed? No, she couldn't have killed the guard just to escape, it was not like her, this Thorin knew for sure.

“She was kidnapped, right here under my roof,” he whispered more to himself than to the others, his astonishment slowly replaced by something else as the parts of the puzzle came together in his mind.

He immediately turned around, his face now a mask of heated fury, and he shouted in a powerful voice:

“Bring the dogs!”

“As you command,” one of the guards said, and turning around found his fellow in arms backing away slowly with a strange expression.

“What's the matter with you?”

“It's nothing,” the latter murmured but the damage had been done for he already caught Thorin's attention.

The king turned around and took a few steps forward with suspicion written in his face. He eyed his subject carefully.

“You are sweating,” he announced darkly as if the guard didn`t know. “What happened here? Speak!”

The guard boldly tilted his chin up. “I know nothing, my lord. You have mistaken me for something I am not.”

Thorin's eyes darkened. “Have I now?”

He took another step closer. He beckoned for a guard to proceed to disarm his fellow. Then he placed both his hands on the guard`s shoulders and made him kneel before his king. He circled him with slow, measured steps as a wolf would do to his prey. Then, slowly and deliberately, he unsheathed his dagger, weighed it in his hand as if assessing the quality of the steel, and then pointed its tip to the guard`s throat. The apple jumped as the guard tried to swallow without being cut.

“Speak!” Thorin hissed, his eyes glittering with cold menace that had now replaced the heated fury. He pressed the steel deeper into the skin and a few drops of blood oozed from the superficial wound.

“I could just as well let them drag you into the dungeons and perform regular interrogation. The kind with torture and sleep deprivation, for days and weeks until you are a broken whimpering mess that pisses himself at any unexpected sound,” he spoke dangerously low but all the more clearly, “But the time is wasting. Tell me what you know  _ now _ , and I shall grant you quick death. That is when I am satisfied with your answers.”

The guard swallowed again and the dagger cut even deeper into his flesh. Thorin grinned and implied another push.

“Where is she?!”

“I don't know,” came the answer.

“ _ What _ do you know then?!” Thorin thundered. He bent down to swiftly unbuckle the guard`s chest armour and tore it down and away. He brought his dagger down to the chest, ripping the thin tunic to the waist, and scarred the skin in a long deep cut. The interrogated hissed in pain, his features contorted in his torment. He convulsed, but spoke.

“Nothing except that it was an order from the outside; we were paid good money, me, Eiki and Ovil,” he showed towards the corpse as he spoke. “To take her and bring her out of the mountain.”

“Continue!”

The dwarf grinned. “There was a… a plan that Eiki and Ovil bring her out at night; but she managed to kill Ovil… my task was to clear the evidence and make new traces to baffle you, to make it look like she escaped…” at this Thorin swore and yanked the dwarf's head backwards by hair, thus exposing his vulnerable throat even more. The latter was busy trying to breathe and when he finally evened his breath, he pushed out between erratic gasps. “… so we smuggled her through the back hidden door… since then I have no news of what happened with her.”

“Where is she now?!”

“I don't know.”

At this, Thorin smashed the dagger into his armpit, deep down until the hilt, right where the joint meets the bone. He pushed a little down and to the side to produce a lever out of the weapon. Something cracked in an nasty way. Thorin removed the dagger and looked at its blade. The guard`s desperate cries burst out like a geyser, along with a gush of blood from the nasty wound which would never heal. His arm went limp, hanging by his side by the remaining unspoiled muscles.

“Where is she?!” Thorin repeated, leaning in so close they were nose to nose. “Speak and I will spare you your pain.”

“I`m dead anyway,” sobbed he out between the convulsions which shook his whole body. “She was… taken to Rohan.”

Thorin swore, his nostrils widening. “To Éomer?”

“I don't know... But... the escort who was to pick her up was a human… a rider.”

Thorin swore again.

“In which direction did they leave?”

“East… But they'll turn south…” A deep groan. “I don't know more, fuck it! Kill me!”

“Who else is involved from my guards or army?”

“Nobody else! It was just our business!” The dwarf looked down at his heavily bleeding arm. The corners of his mouth now filled with foam as he tried to maintain his balance on his knees. He blinked a few exhausted times.

“Make it quick and I will tell you who ordered your murder!”

Thorin made his hand into a fist and clenched it so tight his knuckles cracked. He nodded. “Speak!”

“It was Dagur.”

Thorin frowned. “That son of a bitch. Who are his supporters?”

“I don't know of any other than Ovil. Now do as you prom- !”

He could not finish. All of a sudden, Thorin reached out and slit the man`s throat with one long, efficiently carved cut, deep and nearly elegant. He walked away from the kneeling dwarf without ever turning back, shouting orders on his way out. His footsteps echoed in the tunnel long after he had left.

The guard lingered in his kneeling position for a few more fleeting seconds before collapsing to the bloody pool on the ground. He was dead before he even hit it.

 

XXX

 

Thorin was seething. It was not an ordinary anger as one could imagine, it was the kind of dark anger you unleash only once unjustly deprived of something of utmost importance. And he was not only furious, he realized he actually  _ feared _ for her. He did not remember when it was last time that he allowed himself to feel fear.

His first order was to summon a group of soldiers on fast horses to accompany him on his way south. The second was for Balin to take care of the revolters, no matter how far they were.

It was true he could have handled Dagur sooner. Being his distant relative, now exiled in Ered Luin, he was among the first to disagree with Thorin's politics once he had reclaimed Erebor. There was a mutiny short after his ascension to the throne which got very soon suppressed, and Dagur and a few of his followers were benevolently sent to their former homeland to live their lives there. He never knew how many of them remained in Erebor though. His spies stationed in Ered Luin never sent a word of what Dagur was planning. He could have known. He should have been stricter when making his verdict, he thought as he urged his horse into a mad run.

The other thing was Kate. Now that he knew what had happened, that she had been kidnapped under his own roof, from _his_ bed, under _his_ _protection_ which he had promised to her under any circumstances, made him want to kill those who did it. No, he wanted to torture them, rip their insides, see their blood flow all crimson and only then kill them.

So she did not escape. She did not flee from him like before. The thought made him feel a single spark of gratefulness in his heart, a heart which now warmed at the idea that she chose him for just a little longer than he had hoped, than he could have hoped. Did this not answer his question, the question he never directly asked her?

He thought about the way she swayed her hips when she walked, so inviting it set him aflame in seconds; about the measured way she spoke her timid soft words; about the dignity of her gestures and movements she was probably not even aware of, even as a slave… Then it occurred to him that she somehow transformed into a vision, a dream he was chasing but could never reach. It was not merely about her sudden disappearance, it was more about her purity and softness of actions which he himself was missing, which brought light into his private darkness. A single spark of light, a promise of something better. She made his existence not only bearable, she made it joyful. He stopped at the thought for a moment and let the sudden revelation wash through him in long, cleansing waves, like a soothing balm.

Now she is gone, but he will recover her at any cost, he thought as the wind whipped his hair and whistled by his ears.

He will recover her for what she means to him. For the sake of future, their future.

The stout figure riding a quick horse in their direction stopped his train of thought. They greeted hastily and the rider approached Thorin, speaking in hushed words.

“Hurry! I know where she is. I have observed him long enough.”

Then Dwalin turned around and gestured for the dwarves to follow him.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> this chapter contains violence and some non-con elements, but if you`ve read this far, I guess you don`t care :)
> 
> It is long and intense and very important, so I really hope you like it. Enjoy :)

_ Do not look at me _

_ I am the daughter of hate _

_ You must not see me _

_ Never touch my heart _

_ Never! _

 

_ (lyrics by Amorphis) _

  
  


So Thorin has a queen. 

Not just another woman, but a queen, albeit a future one. These were the words which resonated in my mind over the following sleepless, endless nights after Éomer had left and the door was sealed once again. A beautiful one, worthy of him, a noble woman of ancient and proud origin, as I imagined her. What will become of me, even if he saves me? Will he cast me out to somewhere far away so that I don't bother her precious sight, set me aside to the kitchens to be all forgotten? Or will he keep me close to have us both? Or will he free me? Never. What would be the worse option? Out of all three, I realized being left behind felt the worst.

To lose Thorin.

To lose my precious man although he was never truly mine, in any of the ways possible. I never imagined we would end up this way. I always thought it would be me to leave him, escape, return home, anything in the world, just not this cruel, heartless - and well - very prosaic end.

But he has the right to do as he wishes. He is the king. He has his obligations towards his kingdom, his people, to secure their future. After all, I am just a slave; and I never told him I loved him. Well, neither did he. So what did I expect? And why the hell would he come for my rescue?! He has better things to do now, I thought desperately as I squeezed the hem of my nightgown with maddened force. Will he come for me just for what we`ve had? For his promise to keep me safe?

The days were passing slowly, as I could distinguish by the pale sunlight penetrating the darkness of my prison under the door. I was hungry, hungry beyond measure. As the long hours passed, the painful hollowness in my stomach slowly subdued to the point where I only could feel icy knots deep inside of me. I would not be able to eat even if I was given food, the wreck of nerves that I was now. My body felt much weaker. I found it difficult to move or do anything physical, so I just kept returning to my endless self-torturing, feverish thoughts. I kept telling myself all would be alright, but as the time passed and the weakness crept in my limbs, I found myself pondering on the possibility that I would eventually die here. Starve to death. How much longer could I stand it?

How much longer could I cope without my Thorin? But no. He never appeared and my tired mind which clung to his imprint in me so desperately now began to resign on what we had. Another two days, and I was sure this was the end.

I cannot wait for him all the time. I cannot rely on him in that way, depend on him. That's what I was doing all the time before, and this is the result. Icy pain squeezed my heart, the hollow ache of parting with someone dear.

I need to let him go.

I replayed in my mind those nice moments we had, those belong only to the two of us. Whatever his future brings, is his and hers alone, and I have no place in that future. My hand shot to my neck where once the pendant used to hang so comfortably. I sniffed and dried my nose with the back of my hand. There is probably no future at all for me.

I focused on my captors instead. I knew what would be coming soon. The guard somehow managed to bring in a proper mattress and place it in the corner of the room. It was clean and soft and in spite of what it meant I used it immediately to maintain at least some sleeping comfort, if I managed to close my eyes at all.

I feared. I feared a lot. But then I remembered what Thorin had said to me once about my fear and how to turn it into anger, how to gain strength out of it. It was the most important lesson I had learnt from him and I meant to keep his advice in mind.

In the end, it would be me or them. But I will not die a coward.  
  


XXX

Convulsions shook me as I threw up in the bucket again. How could I when my stomach was all empty? Was it just my disturbed nerves? I sat down and leaned against the wall to rest a little. I wiped my mouth with shaking cold hand and stared in the dark of the room.

How long has it been…? No, that's not possible! But what if…?

I frowned, bringing my hand to my breast and then belly. Does it change anything in my situation? Hell, no.

Thorin, dear, if you don't come, you will never learn.

Exhausted, I lay down and slept like the child.  
  


XXX

 

That day my head felt particularly empty. There was comfortable, numb silence inside as if I was submerged in the freezing northern sea waters and turned into an iceberg. No noises penetrated from the outside, and I would not have noticed even if there were any. It felt strangely freeing and dreamy. I found a part of me watching myself from a safe distance, not engaging at all, just existing.

Then something stirred, rousing me from my dreamlike state. The sounds of hooves against the grassy ground. Muted male voices. Silent footsteps accompanied by the already familiar clank of metal. The door opened with a screech.

Éomer in the entrance.

My heart jumped into my throat. I brought my hand to my face and rubbed my eyes to help them adjust to the intrusion of sunlight.

Éomer looked around the room and walked in, holding a lit lantern. He placed it on the mantelpiece and proceeded to close the door. He locked it slowly and hid the key in his clothes. Then he turned to me, lying spread on the mattress.

“Have you made up your mind?” His voice came in an oddly silent manner.

“Yes.”

“Then, what is your answer?”

“The answer is no,” I said icily. I pierced him with my eyes, giving into the glare all my hate. “I think I'm pregnant. Let me go.”

He looked startled, for a brief moment, and I really enjoyed it. The slightest shadow of doubt crossed his features before he finally smirked.

“Nice try. Even if it was true and you carried the brat, it is not important now. Besides, you do not look very persuasive.”

“Ask your guard. He knows I'm unwell.”

“I do not care.”

“Thorin will kill you when he learns!” I spat.

A shadow crossed his features. Without another word, he stepped closer and out of the way so that the light of the lantern fell on my face. He studied me for a moment through the eye openings before touching his shiny helmet and removing it. His golden hair fell across his shoulders, spilling down his back in a thick heavy waterfall. He looked divine and eerie at the same time.

He reached for the clasp on his shoulder. A silent click, another one, and his cloak fell to the ground, followed by his bracers and shin guards. When he moved to his breastplate, I stood up shakily, leaning against the wall, and watched him undress with a silent hiss. As he removed his breastplate, he sent me a wicked smirk, his eyes shining. He stood there astride, tall, his chest rising visibly proud under his red embroidered tunic, a resilient warrior with his sword and dagger hanging down his belt.

“Don't you dare!” I backed a few steps which earned me another victorious smirk.

“It seems you have been left enough strength to do me the favour of ridding yourself of that gown,” he purred. “Now off with it.”

When I shook my head, the amusement in his eyes disappeared as they turned cold. He made a step closer and reached for me.

“Don't touch me!” I hissed, and when his hand landed on my shoulder with the intention to pull the nightgown down my arm, I shot out without another warning and scratched his face. My nails dug into his flesh deeply, leaving long angry marks on his fair skin. Their lines filled with blood within seconds. He pulled back, somewhat surprised, but not enough for me to gain any kind of advantage over him.

“This spirit!” he grinned, and I backed a few steps to get out of his reach, determined to make this as difficult for him as possible. What was I to lose, after all, except my life or sanity.

But he shot at me immediately, shortening the distance, and having grabbed my nightgown in both his hands, tore it all the way down at the front. I did not try to cover myself; I did not feel ashamed, this was not the right time. Instead, I stood there smiling, bare before his greedy sight which feasted on my skin, and this short distraction gave me enough time to kick him in the balls hard enough to make him bend forward. I immediately kicked him in the face with full force, once, twice, causing him to groan angrily with pain, and I reached for his sword which still hung by his belt along with the dagger. This was the moment he realized I would not give in in the way he wanted me to; how I managed to watch his expression change while all this was happening I don`t know. I only know that he grabbed my outstretched hand and squeezed and pulled painfully, the blood dripping angrily from his nose I had probably broken, his brows furrowed and glare of his dark eyes deadly, with only one intention all-too evident.

I never fought so fiercely in my entire life. My every cell, every single drop of blood was on fire, determined to hurt, destroy, kill. I was furious and blind with rage. Who would have thought I could go berserk.

At the edge of my blurred, yet still very focused mind, I registered some noise intruding from the outside. The sounds of hooves, shouts of men. Repeated slamming against the door which held tight. A commanding voice ordering Éomer to open the bloody door.  _ If you but scratch her, I swear I will kill you _ , it thundered its way in, threatening. It called my name and I could not make out who it belonged to.

Éomer shouted back something in reply, mocking and cruel words, something about fucking my delicious tight cunt. All I could do was to reach out and grab his dagger, which now finally got within my reach. I unsheathed it and as Éomer turned his attention back to me, I plunged its steel deep into his throat, right into the hole between his collar bones. I pulled it out and the blood gushed out of the wound in powerful crimson waves. Éomer stared at me wide-eyed as the recognition finally reached his brain. His hands let go off me and shot to his throat in desperate attempt to keep the blood and life locked within.

Just then, the door gave in and slammed open with a loud thud.

In them a towering figure, a long elvish blade prepared in his hand.

Éomer gurgled, his eyes turning upwards, as he collapsed to the floor. He tried to say something, but the sounds coming out of his mouth were no words any longer. He was panting, gasping for breath, for precious oxygene his blood could no longer carry into his brain, turning very pale, his eyes glossy and strangely beautiful and lively in his last throes. He was shaking, his whole massive torso, so obscenely naked in his private fight.

The dagger fell out of my hands and I collapsed to the floor next to him.

Then I felt a pair of sure hands lift me up, helping me to my feet. I glanced up and saw Thorin's blank face next to mine. Not blank; bloodless and pale it was with worry.

He lifted his heavy sword, placing it in my shaking hands, helping me wrap my fingers around the hilt. He placed the tip of the blade on Éomer`s chest, right in the place where his heart was still beating frantically in its last struggle for his worthless life.

“Éomer, Marshal of Riddermark, heir to the throne of Théoden, you have been judged and declared guilty for your crimes against humanity and your allies. By the will of Mahal, we hereby sentence you to death by sword.”

Thorin's words came steady, his voice loud and clear in its majesty as he spoke. I felt his fingers wrap around mine tightly and he suggested a downward movement. I looked up at him and he nodded.  _ The revenge is yours _ , his eyes said. Without hesitation, I pushed the blade down with extra force with all the adrenaline pumping in my veins, burying it deep in Éomer`s flesh until it hit the floor from the other side. Blood gushed out if his mouth, spilling around and under him in a dark glossy pool. He choked again, gurgling noises coming out of his punctured throat, his lips moving, his eyes still wide with shock, until they turned cold and lifeless. I realized he was still looking at me. I was the last thing he actually saw.

I fell on my knees, still holding Orcrist. I took a closer look at my trembling fingers, painfully tight in their grip around the hilt. I let go off the weapon as if it had seared me. Then, against any reason, I went back to the body and pulled at its clothes, searching its pockets and any hidden places like a mad woman.

“What are you doing, Kate?” came Thorin's astonished voice.

“The pendant! I must find it!” I replied feverishly, refusing to acknowledge that Éomer would most probably not be carrying my pendant with him all along. The pendant which represented Thorin's victory over him.

“What pendant?!” A few seconds of silence. “Do you mean my gift?” I felt his hands wrap around my shoulders warmly as he tried to bring me to my senses. “Do not search, my dearest, I will give you another.”

“But you don't understand! He- ”

“Are you hurt? Did he force himself upon you?” his voice sounded very alarmed as if his throat suddenly grew tight.

“No, he didn't manage. But- ”

“Then nothing happened. Come here,” he said, visibly relieved. He knelt down beside me, gently took my hands still clasped over the dead man's clothes and held them in his. Then, as if he remembered something, he shouted towards the door where Dwalin stood, and a few other dwarves.

“Out now, all of you! Close the door!”

Only when darkness fell upon us once again, lit only by the solitary lantern, did he turn his face to me.

“Kate…” When I did not react, too shaken to do anything but stare, he sighed. He took me in his arms, embracing me so tightly as an iron statue might, and I was enveloped in his scent, the scent of old leather and spices. I remembered it well. I closed my eyes and let myself drift in the haze. My hands shot to his neck and I realized I was clasping him tightly and desperately, my eyes watering now that all was over. He returned the embrace eagerly, lowering his head so that we touched ear-to-ear, and the waterfall of his messy hair tickled my nose.

“Kate… Will you ever forgive me I was not there to protect you? I have messed up so badly…” His voice broke on the word ‘forgive’, sounding very dry and emotional at the same time. “It shouldn't have happened, none of this. All my fault.”

I did not reply, I could not. All I did was weep and cling to him desperately, feverishly as if he just got resurrected in front of my eyes. He so much longed to hear me say I forgave him, it was obvious in his every movement, touch, breath, but when the desired reply did not come, he only sighed once again and led his hand to my nape to stroke it in long, slow, soothing waves.

I accepted his attention gladly. I didn't care if there was another woman, in this moment of time he belonged solely to me.

“Thorin… You have come...”

His hand ran down to my bare back, stopping at my naked hip. He gently freed himself from the cage of my arms and unbuckled his cloak to place it on my shoulders. He adjusted it so that the buckle was now placed on my right shoulder, the left one hidden under the cloth, and it reminded me of something from the past. The day we met. He did the same on that day to cover me from unwelcome eyes. Something inside me stirred, a wave of something suppressed long ago; anger and hate.

“There you go,” he whispered in the deepest of tones. “That is better.”

He leaned down slowly, his lips brushing mine in the lightest of kisses.

“I love you,” he breathed between the soft kisses, his eyes hazy. “Do not worry about the pendant, there will be lots more. You do not need to worry about anything from now on, this I swear to you, my dearest.” He rested his forehead against mine and remained like that as if frozen in time. A soft sigh escaped his lips as his arms encircled mine.

“That's not love what you feel.” It was no more than a whisper, a faint echo from my cracked lips, but he heard me well enough. “If it was love, you wouldn't have done things you did.”

He tore away from me, holding me at an arm's length to look me in the face.

“Kate! You are mistaken!”

“No, I'm not. Hands off me, Thorin!”

“What are you talking about, Kate? Katie… ” he breathed softly, bewildered, reluctant to believe, but still hopeful. “Listen to me! I do-”

“I have heard you perfectly clearly, Thorin.” I swallowed and shook his hands off. “Don't you ever touch me again!”

“Kate! What's wrong now?!” His face went long.

“I`ll tell you what`s wrong,” I said as I shakily stood up. “It's your fault, all of this!” His eyes darted to me, sky-blue in their ignorance and astonishment, but he did not try to object. He probably agreed with me, which made me even more angry. “Don't you understand?” I pointed towards the corpse at our feet, my voice now rising.

“He took me with him because he wanted to have me as you did. He behaved to me as to his slave, or a whore ready to spread her legs, because he saw  _ you _ do it! I need this to end now, break this bloody circle! I can't go on like this anymore, Thorin! Never again! I had lost all my dignity here and can't have anyone else behave like that to me any longer, and  _ especially _ not you!” By the end of the speech I was shouting, all the black hate, frustration and anger spilling from me as poison, and I realized I was crying and laughing like a mad woman.

Thorin's eyes widened at those words, now filling with disbelief and horror. Still, he did not speak to interrupt me, it was only his lips which moved soundlessly, mouthing my name as he stared at me in utter shock.

“I thought I could make it, Thorin, I thought I could come back with you and continue where we were left last time… but I can't. I have made up my mind.” Seeing the hurt in his eyes and his knuckles whitening as he made his hands into fists, I swallowed before saying my final statement. It was not that difficult, after all.

“Let me go once and for all, Thorin, or kill me on the spot.”

He looked as if a lightning had struck him. His face paled, his eyes filling with fierce ice, a muscle jumping in his tightly-clenched jaw. For the first time in my life I saw Thorin actually speechless. It didn't feel like victory though. It felt empty and cruel and my own heart was shattering at the sight of him being so hurt. But I could not go back, I had gone too far. Changed way too much.

My hands shot to the buckle on my shoulder and soon Thorin's cloak fell to the floor. I strode a few steps away on wobbly legs, grabbing my torn nightgown and putting it back on, wrapping myself in it in kimono-style. My fingers trembled as I took a small buckle from the floor where Éomer had left it and I used it to secure my own garments.  _ No more men! No more filthy roaming hands! No more oppression! _ By the time I finished I was shaking violently, tears streaming down my face freely and in my ears echoed laughter from quite some distance. I turned around to localize the source but when I saw Thorin's worried expression, I rather shut my mouth and unsheathed Éomer`s sword.

I glared in Thorin's direction. “What?! Go back to your fiancée. There can't be two of us anyway.”

“What are you talking about?! There is no other woman, let alone a fiancée! Who told you such nonsense?”, he exclaimed in astonishment. Then his eyes fell on Éomer`s body and he grinned. “The bastard!”

I didn't react, it couldn't have changed anything between us anyway. I opened the door and rushed out of the hut, the sunlight blinding me instantly. I blinked a few times and spotted several dozens of dwarves mounted on their horses and ponies in front of the hut in a semi-circle. In front of them two men, soldiers, kneeling on the ground with their hands bound behind their backs, waiting for a trial; one of which was my keeper. The other one must have accompanied Éomer all the way here.

I grinned.  _ No more men. No more hands. _ I strolled towards them leisurely, barefeet and weary, and when the unknown man sent a mocking smile in my direction, without a single warning I raised my sword and sent his head tumbling to the ground.

Éomer`s was a good sword, indeed.

There was a low murmur in the dwarvish lines.

Then I turned my attention towards my former keeper who was eyeing me with accusing anticipation. “And you? You did nothing to help me!” I hissed and raised the sword again.

“Kate! Do not turn your hate against the unarmed!” came Thorin's thundering voice, loud enough to penetrate even my own surrounding wall. I hesitated in my momentary madness. Still, he did not step in to disarm me.

“Was I armed when you ran after me in the forest and hurt me?!” I stated more than asked. The soldier did not reply; he was eyeing me with stubborn, yet knowing look.

One more breath, and his handsome head landed on the ground just as surely, his eyes wide and sad in the aureola of his golden hair.

I stared at my sword, its ancient blade crimson and glistening with blood, then looked around the surrounding faces.

“That will happen to anyone who dares to touch or mock me!”

Having said that, I headed for the forest, not realizing I was dragging the heavy weapon after me. It drew a neat fine line in the fresh grass.

As ye sow, so ye shall reap.

 

XXX

 

My hasty steps led me deeper into the forest. I had no idea where I was going, but at least the distance was growing between me and the hut. I was roughly heading north, in my mind only one thought - get away, as fast and far as possible. I heard steps rushing after me, silent footsteps which sounded sure and urgent, but never close enough. He didn't even try to speak to me. 

“Let me be!” I hissed at him without ever turning back, concentrating on my rugged breath which was coming short now and on the cadence of my own footsteps. I need to keep moving, by all means. Stay awake, no matter where my path takes me.

It did not take long until the black and white circles sprang in front of my eyes, the long starvation taking its toll, finally, now that the adrenaline rush in my veins decreased. I collapsed to the ground before I could even sit down on a near tree trunk.

“Kate.”

I turned my head in the direction where the voice came from. He was standing above me, frowning, but it was a frown of concern rather than that of rage or hurt. He had been following me on foot all the way here, and I didn't have any more energy to worry about his reputation among his soldiers any longer. He squatted next to me, but still in a safe distance from my sword. Not that I was able to actually raise it in my state anymore; he probably did not want to upset me any further.

“Katie. Look at me.” His voice came silent and commanding, and hearing the undertone I was almost happy I had already told him what I needed; I wouldn't have the guts and heart to do it now.

Our eyes locked.

“You have lost much weight. Did they not feed you properly?”

I shook my head. “That was the plan; his way of persuading me to yield,” I elaborated bitterly, feeling my powers slipping through my fingers with every passing second. I will have to reconsider my plans for leaving, and starting a new life as a new person, after all.

A short surprised silence. “You must eat now. Return with me to the horses and I promise I will not try to come closer to you.” I could see his jaw clench as he uttered the words, so unlike him, trying not so sound too harsh or pressing. Seeing I was not reacting, he stood up and moved towards me, but I yelled my panicked “Don't come closer!”, and he retreated, swearing under his breath.

“Let me be, Thorin, please. I'm done with you running for my rescue all the time,” I said. He nodded, not trying to say any more useless, unwelcome words.

I closed my eyes for an instant. I really thought it was an instant, but when I opened them again, I saw Thorin reach for me and lift me up in the saddle of a horse he had brought here while I was resting, probably even falling into a short sleep. His hands got off me before I could realize what was happening and start to fight. He even handed me my sword along with its sheath.

I nodded in silent thanks. Then I took the reins in my hands and urged the horse to walk, however clumsy it felt and looked; and I didn't give a fuck.

“Where do you think you're going in this state of yours?” he grabbed the reins and pulled at them, eyeing me with stern look. The horse huffed, dissatisfied and alarmed.

“To the lake, of course,” I said. ‘Don't try to stop me. You know this time-”

“I know you`ll get yourself killed this time before the sun even sets. Do not be foolish, Kate. Even the hut events couldn't have destroyed your brain to such extent as you are displaying it now.”

My bare heels dug into the horse's groins and it took Thorin a lot of effort to calm it down and make it stop in its tracks.

“That is wrong direction. I shall take you to the lake,” he said after a short pause, seeing my determination; uttering the sentence I so much longed to hear leave his lips. “You will be given proper food to recover your strength. But Mahal, if you fail to find the exit and leave-”

“I will leave either way, Thorin. Dead or alive.” I interrupted him calmly, with an air of finality.

He just shook his head.

A thunder echoed in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *berserk - an ancient Viking warrior said to have fought in a trance-like fury


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> I`m overwhelmed by the strong reactions and passionate comments from you! :) You never cease to amaze me.
> 
> Thanks for your kind and praising words, here`s another chapter :)

The hut glowed in the setting sun, with the brightest shades of orange and pink. It looked perfectly quiet and serene, despite all that had happened inside. I watched the soldiers drag the corpses inside and then step out of the building quickly. Soon the fire-flames sprang, licking the shabby wood with soft delighted sighs.

No witnesses. No evidence.

The bodies were rid of their weapons, helmets, armour and any pieces of metal which could survive the fire and intense heat, and thus betray their carriers’ origin or social status.

“The sword will need to be taken care of before all is over,” Thorin gestured towards Éomer’s weapon which hung safely by my leather belt. I nodded automatically; I didn't want to argue with him, and well, I didn't know what he meant by before all is over. I will not need it in the lake, that was for sure. I chose not to elaborate on the idea. I`ll see what can be done when we reach the spot.

A few of our soldiers hid the enemy's weapons and armour in their saddlebags, and led by Dwalin, set off in the opposite direction. Their task was to bury the evidence deep under the ground, separately, on several locations, far enough from the hut and Edoras to dissolve any suspicion even if they were found. Their reappearance would mean open war, and Thorin did not want to risk it even though the law was on our side.

I watched the flames bite into the wooden walls in the setting sun from the back of  my horse. They cracked silently and the air filled with subtle scent of wood and smoke. I imagined Éomer and his soldiers lying in the hut, on the floor where I had spent so many watchful hours; piled on each other, with their hands and legs thrown wide open, their jewels and arms removed, so unlike in a proper burial, so undignified. I expected to feel victorious and satisfied, but I felt nothing. My head was perfectly clear, my chest rising and falling steadily, cleansed, devoid of any useless emotion. Just like after a storm, the kind of catharsis which takes away all, and there is only one way ahead of you which you know you must follow.

This was the end or the beginning. I didn`t know which one for both ways blended.

I grasped the reins and stirred in the saddle.

“Which way?” I asked Thorin.

He tilted his head in the direction and patted his horse`s mane. The animal moved and Thorin threw a quick glance over his shoulder to check if I was following. He did not try to take my reins or stolen sword or otherwise restrain me; instead, he kept a silent watch over me, not too obvious but I was perfectly aware of it. I pulled at the reins clumsily, and my horse made a step forward.

The winding snake of our company set off.  
  


XXX

 

We did not speak, we did not communicate. All we did was ride side by side in the middle of the line, with soldiers in front and behind us. I had no idea how on earth I found the strength to ride a horse, but I guess it was the idea of returning home which kept me awake and going. I was grateful my horse just followed the other animals so I did not have to spend any more energy on trying to control it.

We rode for two days already, and by that time were joined by Dwalin`s part of the company. When we got far enough from Edoras and the forest visibly changed, we built a camp in a clearing. A bowl of clear soup miraculously appeared in front of my nose; the dwarves must have obtained it in one of the few villages scattered along the road. I was grateful for it; it was actually the only food my tight stomach accepted, and I was slowly starting to feel better. I noticed we were making longer breaks and set off in late mornings, and I found myself enjoying the little more time for refreshing sleep.

My appetite did not return fully, though. On one occasion I threw up again in the dense undergrowth, aside from the main camp. When I straightened, wiping my mouth, I spotted Thorin leaning against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. He must have followed me here.

“When did you last bleed?” he asked with the typical straightforwardness of his. His voice came stern and cold as if he was interrogating a criminal, and all the passion or affection he had displayed a few days ago was gone. I did not blame him; he was doing fairly well after being so turned down. Still, I had to put an end to it. Even the slightest suspicion could destroy my plans. Thorin would never let me go if he learnt, I was sure of this.

“That's none of your business.”

“Is it not? It is more  _ my _ business than any other man`s,” he returned darkly, tilting his head to a side. He walked towards me in slow, measured steps, stopping in front of me. I saw his gaze slide down my body, assessing, taking in the shape of my breasts and hips, and I noticed his right hand quiver before it shot up, directed at my bosom. I made a step back, sheathing my sword in an instant, its tip pointing at his throat.

“Don`t. Touch. Me.” I said angrily, and his hand froze mid-air. The tip of my blade scratched his skin and I saw him swallow, his chin tilted up as he tried to get out of my reach. His eyes had already been cold, but now they turned into solid blocks of ice.

“I thought we had this sorted out, Thorin. If I were pregnant, I would tell you.” I was not really sure about the child, after all. It was a merciful lie, to me and to him alike, to make things easier.

A tiny spark died in his eyes, the spark of last hope he had obviously clung to. I saw it clearly as he stepped back with his shoulders bent forward, his hands raised high so that I could see them both; and he looked defeated in his own private way. I decided this was not the time for pity and built a wall around my heart.

“I should have treated you better, but I could not help it. This is the way I am. And now all is lost and you are leaving me forever,” he stated bitterly. “You can sheathe your sword, Katie, I am not your enemy.”

And he turned his back to me and walked away, fighting his way through the dense dark undergrowth.

 

XXX

 

We were getting closer, this I knew for sure. The landscape changed, it turned dry and flat as the deep green forests gradually subsided and scattered rocks sprang from the infertile soil. We followed the River Running back to its spring for quite some time before I noticed the large water body. It sparkled in the late afternoon sun, reminding me of the silvery threads of mithril veins back in the mountain.

Finally.

We set up our camp nearby, just behind a close low hill. Soon we were joined by the soldiers stationed around the lake to patrol its banks in case I showed up. Now they merged into our lines. Thorin ordered his subjects to stay where they were and rest, through gritted teeth, and beckoned for me to accompany him. I remembered none of the fellows knew how I got here, and Thorin obviously wanted to keep it that way. He could still tell them I drowned, which was fairly possible, after all. My heart was hammering in my chest. It filled me with happy anticipation, after almost a year spent in these forsaken lands. A part of me still couldn't believe I'd made it this far.

We walked side by side in silence, inspecting the lakeside. It did not change much. I didn't find anything of importance here, no hint of how to go on, how to return, except my old shoe hidden in the bushes, the one I had left behind when I could not find its matching pair. It got most probably caught in the water, between the water plants. Or…

I stepped into the lake and submerged in its clear crystalline waters. I swam around the lakeside, then headed for the center to get as deep under the water as possible. But I found nothing, nothing changed. I resurfaced, disappointed, and sat on the soft grass to let the sun dry my clothes. The water was dripping down my nose and hair, and I wiped it away with my wet sleeve.

“We need to wait for a storm,” I broodingly said to Thorin whose presence I felt behind my back. He murmured something in reply and sat down next to me. Then he grabbed a blade of grass and shoved its tip between his teeth. He was missing his pipe.

“I will not try to make you change your mind,” he said darkly. “But you need to know you might drown when you try to swim during the storm.”

“I know, Thorin,” I replied dryly.

He looked up at the sky and frowned. “You might get luckier than you think. It is going to rain tonight, latest tomorrow.”

  
  


XXX

  
  


The clouds gathered by the next day. They painted the evening skies with velvety shades of dark blue and purple, and the stars darkened under their heavy cover. Soon the first drops fell. I lifted my face to let the rain wash over me, and it soon changed into thick and heavy ropes hanging from the firmament.

“So?” Thorin lifted his eyebrow at me. A lightning flashed, followed by a roaring thunder. It sounded very close. Unbelievable coincidence, to experience such a raging storm so soon after our arrival.

“You can't expect to survive this,” Thorin frowned at me in the falling dusk. His face lit as another lightning struck; his profile went plain black and white for a split second before it returned back to normal. He looked concerned, his eyes darting back and forth.

“You're right, I don't expect it. I don't expect anything at all. What can I lose?” I managed a weak smile. I swallowed, trying to hide a lump forming in my throat. “Thorin. I wish things could be different for us. If I don't return, I wish… I wish you knew…”

“Do not say your farewells. Do not say what you cannot take back, Kate,” he interrupted me softly, bringing his hand to my cheek, and then remembering he could not touch me anymore he let it fall down by his hip safely. He shook his head, and his voice sounded dry as a twig. It broke right next instant, betraying him.

“I don't like this,” he glared at the skies. “There is still time, Kate. Let us return. I promise to bring you back next time.” It almost sounded pleading, this urgency in his voice.

He stepped in front of me, between me and the lake, as if to prevent me from entering the treacherous waters. The rain was flowing down his hair, dripping from his nose and shoulders, and it made him look feral and abandoned at the same time. He was shouting now to overcome the nightly noises of the raging storm.

“I promise to-”

He did not finish.

Another lighting crossed the sky in a wide arc and struck the lake, channeled directly into its deep waters. A thunder followed right thereafter. Thorin cried out and fell to his knees heavily. I could see smoke coming out from his burnt torso. He looked at me with unseeing eyes, and collapsed to the ground with a loud thud.

“Thorin!” I cried out, any journeys forgotten now.

He must have been standing right in the water without realising it when the lightning struck. I looked around in panic, yelling Dwalin's name in the direction of the camp, but felt my words ripped from my lips by the wind.

I hunched over Thorin's body and grabbing it by his leather belt and under his armpit, pulled at his immense live weight. I must get him out of the water  _ now _ , that was the only thought in my mind. I pulled with all my strength. And again! But he didn't move and I yelled at him desperately for dressing in such heavy armour.

“Wake up!” I yelled at him. I reached out and slapped him across the face once, twice. No reaction whatsoever.

I pulled again and again, and after a while managed to move him some two metres away from the water, along with swearing and threats of leaving him here if he doesn't fucking wake up  _ now _ .

“Dwalin!!!” I yelled again towards the hill and sank to my knees next to Thorin.

How did the instructor teach us? Right.  _ Take a pocket mirror, place it above the mouth and check if the patient is breathing. _ Ridiculous.  _ Check if his chest is moving. _

Swearing in the deafening thunderstorm, with water running all over Thorin's face, I brought my ear to his lips and desperately tried to catch any movement, any sign he was alive, but all I could hear was the thunder and the damn lightnings which grew even more frequent, now blinding me. I swore again and hit Thorin's chest with my fist, panic taking over full control now. I can't hear anything, he'll die here if he isn't dead already! But only dull pain spread in my hand; of course, the damn armour. Made of hardened leather, encrusted with solid metal plates which lead the current so well.

“Damn you, Thorin!” I shouted at his still body. “Why are you wearing all this useless crap?!” I searched the piece with my fingers in the blinding dark, trying to find a way to undress him. Right, some more buckles on the side of his trunk running down from under the armpit, why not! I pulled at them but my fingers slipped on the wet metal. I swore again, grabbing them with extra force, knowing damn well I was bruising my trembling fingers to the point of bleeding.

“Yeah, why not make it even more difficult with some extra metal, you idiot!”

Then something finally gave in and I managed to pull the breastplate to his side, opening it like a book. I didn't have any more time to lose; I hit the middle of his chest with both my fists to start the heart, that was when it was not beating. If it was, then I'm surely killing him. I hunched over him further when I heard Dwalin shout.

“What the hell happened?!” He was eyeing me suspiciously, already kneeling opposite me, glaring at me across Thorin's torso, the other dwarves running to their king's aid.

“He was struck by a lighting. I don't have time to explain. You need to put your hands together like this,” I showed him immediately, “and push the ribs down like this, by force. It will make his heart beat. Please believe me,” I added when he glared at me again.

But he was smart enough not to fight with me. He did as I told him, looking perfectly awkward but determined as the sounds of bones being broken into shards echoed in the space, and I returned to Thorin's mouth to help him breathe.

 

XXX

 

It took forever until Thorin came to his senses. He eyed me, then Dwalin, and opened his mouth to speak, only to close his eyes again.

He was lifted and tied to his horse, and we set off immediately.

He must be taken back to Erebor, that was the only thought in my and the dwarves' minds, and I completely forgot I was following the company as naturally as the rain fell from the weeping skies.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> thanks again for your wonderful comments and kudos! :)
> 
> We are slowly nearing the end of this story but beware, there will be one more chapter. Several things will be explained here and I hope all will start to make more sense. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It took full three days for me to be summoned by the king.

I almost lost hope. Erebor remained the same, yet felt different, and at first I could not put my finger on why. I was not called for to perform any of my former duties. In fact I was not even allowed to visit Thorin and speak to him for a brief moment; Amarth insisted that nobody disturbs him in any way, not even me (or especially, as I read between the lines) and the dwarves carried out the recommendation as if it was an order. I offered to at least bring to him food and or help to clean him, anything really to keep myself occupied. The long waiting was killing me. I was turned down very politely but strictly.

I only once managed to peek in through the gape of his door when Amarth was entering. The picture burnt itself in my mind deeply. Thorin lying in his large bed with his head turned away from the door, completely still and looking utterly tired and vulnerable. There was a bandage on his upper chest as far as I could see, probably to cover his burnt skin. His eyes were open, glued to the opposite wall or the high window. He silently exhaled, a deep sigh betraying something was burdening him, and then the door closed.

I could not sleep that night.

It was only later that I found out something had changed. The dwarves lowered their heads when passing me by in the long corridors; but their accusing looks were gone. There was certain level of subservience in them. The guards saluted me by rattling their spears on the floor when I happened to walk nearby. No doors remained locked for me anymore, not even the front gate. It felt strange and very new. What did all this mean?

I was recovering considerably quickly from the long journey. It was only that I kept returning to the events by the lake; they confused me. I thought I was done with Thorin once and for all, well, just until the very second his life became endangered. And it surprised me I was willing to return to Erebor with the dwarves just to personally check how he was doing.

Perhaps I really held feelings towards him. The revelation struck me unprepared.  _ I do love him!, _ I realized as I was strolling outside of the mountain, carefully placing one foot before the other on the rocky ground. I sat down on a large stone covered with dirty moss and watched the distant horizon in the direction we came from. My hand unconsciously wandered to my belly.

On the night of our arrival, after a few hours he had spent tending to Thorin, Amarth visited me. He spoke to me kindly, with a soft smile gracing his lips.

“His Majesty is safe and sound owing to you. His wounds are heavy but he is out of danger now. But he will need a long and proper rest.”

Then he proceeded to check on my health as well, and it didn't take long until he straightened and said:

“You will need to take good care of yourself, too. Your child demands it.” He smiled, and my heart jumped into my throat. “Shall I congratulate His Majesty now?”

“Oh no, don't!” I hurried to say, and then lowered my eyes, blushing. “I haven't decided how…”

There was a sparkle of amusement in his eye, he nodded conspiratorially and I knew he would keep his mouth locked for as long as I needed.

And now I was finally summoned by the king. I didn't know what I had been expecting after all, but I felt nervous, awaiting… something. The right sentence, the right atmosphere to make my revelation.

I knocked on the massive door and opened it nearly shyly. Thorin was lying in his large bed, supported by cushions in a half-sitting position. He was pale, with a few ugly spots of burnt skin on his face and hands, but with less bandages than before, as far as I could see. I swallowed and looked down on the floor. He still managed to look utterly regal and commanding, lion-like with his wild curls cascading down his wide shoulders, even under these circumstances. What a stamina!

He beckoned for me to come closer, and I did so quickly, clasping my hands in front of me. A minute of long uncomfortable silence as his eyes wandered around my face, and I waited for him to finally speak.

“Amarth says you have saved my life,” he mouthed slowly, as if he was still having difficulties to process the information. “Let me thank you for that. It is highly… appreciated. Although, Dwalin managed to break a few of my ribs,” he grinned. “I can no longer keep your secret with me, now that you have revealed your great knowledge to the world.”

“That doesn`t matter, really. You`re welcome,” I whispered, and he nodded.

He turned grave again, clenched his teeth, and looked at me from under his black eyelashes. There remained something more to be said, and he looked in pain. “I would never have thought-” he shook his head, then clearing his throat, started anew.

“With this act of goodwill you have earned your freedom. Your debt is paid. Hereby I release you from my services, Katherine of Norway. You are free to go anywhere you wish, and act of your own will, as you always wanted… I return your name to you,” he said dryly.

Of all things this was the last one I would expect.

So this was it. This is how being freed felt; I never dared to imagine it, and it thrilled and surprised and confused me. My throat went dangerously tight, my eyes tearing, and I opened my mouth to speak, but then closed it again. I wanted to throw myself around his shoulders and kiss him as a thank you, tell him this freeing thing was not needed because I loved him, and besides… But my cold reason prevented me from doing any such thing.

Instead, I bowed my head calmly and just whispered my thank you, with a blank face.

Had he asked me to stay, I would most probably have said yes. But he closed his heavy eyelids, and waved me away on the brink of sleep.

”Do return to say your farewells when you are ready,” he managed to encourage me before sleep took him.

It felt so devastatingly final.

XXX

 

To be a free woman once again felt more difficult than I would have thought. I got used to letting others decide for me, but I fought the old habits as fiercely as I could and got quick results. I talked to Amarth and Dwalin and all the other dwarves who expressed joy for my new path in life. Their king`s health and life was invaluable for them, obviously. I asked them about numerous details of how to make a living, weaving new plans for a new life. It occurred to me I would make it, that I could manage all the changes and raise my child alone, on my own, far away. I wouldn't be the first single mother, after all.

It was the longest month ever, it almost felt like another year, with all the long hours of endless wait. But wait for what? I used the time to pack my humble belongings and roam around the vicinity. Despite all the free choices lying ahead of me I felt almost empty, like an abandoned shell spit out onshore by the wide ocean. I was waiting for a sign, for something to show me this was the right time to leave. I needed to know Thorin was alright, that he recovered from everything, but nothing happened, nothing changed and I was losing my patience bit by bit.

Then one day, having gathered all my courage, I walked into Thorin's chamber for one last time. It was a sunlit summer morning, and the air already felt very warm even in these heights. The open long window let in refreshing breeze, and I inhaled it deeply before speaking.

Thorin stood by the window with his back turned to me, as was his old habit. He knew immediately what was going on, and beckoned for me to take a seat. He himself  remained standing. He was dressed in a black brocade tunic with a simple lace on his chest, a detail which added to his regal countenance, yet let him remain so strikingly male and confident. He bore himself with great vigor and I felt relieved he looked much healthier than the last time I saw him.

”So this is the time to say your goodbye?” he asked out of the blue.

”It is, Thorin,” I replied silently.

He swallowed and took a seat in his armchair, leaning closer to me across the low coffee table.

”I believe you know now why I did not want you to enter the lake,” he said silently.

”I knew it was highly risky even before,” I nodded.

”It is not that. The travellers from the other worlds… One manuscript which I no longer possess says one of them was found floating dead in the water, after a terrible storm. The other one`s body was never found. Although, a mutilated corpse was found later on in the River Running.”

”They`re not connected, it couldn't have been him. Perhaps he managed to get away,” I tried.

”Or not.”

”Why didn't you tell me before?”

”Would you have believed me, Kate? You would have thought I was trying to make you stay with a lie.” He raised an eyebrow, his gaze was direct but not accusing. It was simply a question asked in a simple way. I had to admit he was right, and at the mention of a lie something stirred in me uncomfortably.

”Talking about lies… What did the mutiny mean? Dwalin made certain allusions but didn't want to elaborate.”

Thorin sighed. ”They tried to assassinate me back in Edoras,” he admitted. ”I got out of it alive, as you can see.” He smiled a humorless smile, then continued. ”I was expecting it, but not so soon. Dagur… he never agreed with my politics, with the way I ruled my kingdom. He planned a mutiny soon after I ascended the throne, and I sent him to exile, thinking it would be efficient a punishment. He decided to plot against me even from there, and this is the result; my personal guards bribed and you abducted to distract me from the real state of affairs. How he got in touch with Éomer and why the events happened in this order is soon to be found out. Dagur is being taken care of by my loyal soldiers as we speak,” he added darkly, sending a hateful look in my direction; it was not meant for me.

In this new light, Thorin's image grew larger in my heart. It shone brightly, cleansed before my mind's eye, and I was glad he had revealed all this to me, albeit late.

”I am happy no real harm came to you,” he whispered, and stood up, turning to the window again.

”You could have told me about your enemies… back then… when you punished me,” I breathed.

”Did I not tell you I was being watched?”

”You did.”

”That does not matter any more,” he waved the past away with an impatient gesture. ”What are your plans?” He stood there entirely still, looking perfectly calm from where I was sitting. Only the subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed his inner turmoil; how important my answer was to him.

”Amarth says he will take me to Mirkwood with him, the sooner the better. You will not need him any longer. And I'm not afraid of the spiders,” I tried a lame joke but Thorin didn't even appear to be amused, and I cleared my throat, somewhat ashamed. “I`ll have enough time to decide what to do next. I have my harp, I can make a living with it.”

“Mirkwood? So far?” He sounded almost disappointed, but still did not turn around to face me. “I own a few assets in Dale, you could live there. I could buy you a house. Give you a horse. You could…”

He finally bent his head and hunched over the windowsill, his fingers digging into the wood, his knuckles all white with effort. He did not speak for a good while, his words choked in his throat and muted, only his shoulders moved in throes as if he was sobbing. But he kept perfectly quiet. Then he turned towards me.

“What have I done?!” he exclaimed. There was so much pain in his voice, so much suffering that my heart ached at the sight of him.

Then, finally giving in, he closed the distance between us in three long steps and fell to his one knee before me, heavily and with a loud thud. He grinned and touched his ribs at the movement. It happened so quickly it took my brain a few seconds to process what he was actually doing; but there he was kneeling before me and still looking perfectly knight-like, probably for the first and even last time in his life. He lowered his head humbly, facing the floor.

“If there was something… anything I could do to make things right, I would do it, Kate. Say what you will, my dearest, name your price, and I will give it to you. Just… just don't leave me. That is the only thing I will ever want from you. Stay by me, I beg of you.  _ Please _ stay.”

With those words he lifted his face, desperate and weary, and I saw in his watery eyes that he meant it. His whole posture, every single gesture told the tale of his suffering. I had never seen him in such a state.

I didn't say a word.

Instead, I went down to my knees in front of him. Both my hands shot to his astonished face, and I took it between my palms and stroked his cheeks. I leaned in so that our foreheads touched, and we remained like that for long seconds, enjoying each other's presence, sharing, or just being alive.

“Does that mean you are staying?” he asked silently, his voice a little more coarse than usual, but already warmed by a shade of hope.

“Yes, it means I'm staying. Let's not think about the past. I forgave you long ago, my love,” I whispered, and his face gleamed at me. There was such warmth in his eyes that my heart melted even more as I saw this transformation, the transformation from utter despair to that of perfect joy. His handsome features relaxed, his back straightened, and a content smile graced his lips.

“Do I have your permission to touch you now?” he asked nonchalantly, but still waited for my answer.

I nodded, still not believing I had actually said it after all the time, and tears welled in my eyes. He slowly embraced me, clutching at me so tight I had difficulties to actually breathe.

“Easy,” I said. “We can't breathe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there is something more you need to know, Thorin.”

I took his warm hand in mine and placed it on my belly. I looked him in the eyes suggestively and waited for him to guess. It was not that difficult, after all.

He got it in a second, and his already impossible smile widened even more. His other hand travelled down to my belly, then he gently knocked me over so that I was lying flat on the red carpet. He pressed his ear to my belly, pretending he was listening.

“I don't hear a word of complaint,” he frowned, pretending to try to smooth the surface of my dress to hear better and I laughed through tears because it tickled me. He stopped and tucked a strand stream of hair behind my ear. We looked each other in the eyes, and then he laid himself on top of me, supporting his massive weight on his forearms. His breathing deepened.

“Do Norwegian men make love to their expecting women?” he asked.

“They do,” I giggled.

“That is exactly the answer I wanted to hear,” he smiled, looking very satisfied, and mischievous fire-flames sprang in his eyes.

“Kate, Katie, my beloved,” he whispered affectionately, tasting my name, rolling it back and forth on his tongue, and then eagerly leaned in and kissed me deep. I was enveloped in his masculine scent as the waterfall of his dark hair fell all over us, and the world ceased to exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end, one more chapter follows!


	37. Chapter 37

_ EPILOGUE _

 

_ It is said among the dwarves that one can truly love only once in their lifetime. I strongly doubt it; love has so many shades and varieties that it is impossible to measure it or put it in boxes - this is love, this is half-love, this is not love. Once having settled in your heart, it spreads to the others, multiplying itself, and it makes even more space for other loves, to be spread and enjoyed and cherished. There is no such thing as the beginning or the end of love; once you love, it is forever. This I keep telling Thorin whose love is one of a kind. _

_ It has been two years since I made my decision to stay here in Erebor, once and for all, and I didn't regret it for a single minute. This place is harsh as are its inhabitants, but they are also kind, caring and passionate in all they do, and this passion warms their hearts and seeps into their surroundings like a healing balm. _

_ Thorin worships me in his own way. There is so much passion in him that it threatens to burn me, from time to time; but it never really did. He is doing his best to keep me far from this darkness of his, when he feels his time has come. But these attacks come scarcer as the time progresses. I'm grateful for that. It means all this made sense, that this whole journey of mine had a meaning of its own. _

_ When I think of it now, it occurs to me that fate played a game with us, a game of its own rules and logic. My vision back in the dungeon told me to return to the lake during a storm, and I - we - interpreted it as a key, as a way for me to leave Arda. The true meaning lay somewhere else; it was meant to bring us together, eventually, to make us open our eyes and start anew. We practically saved each other that memorable evening. _

_ A few weeks after the events we received an official letter from Rohan that Éomer, Marshal of Riddermark, went missing. They asked for our help and intelligence which we granted them as a token of goodwill, but, well, with no real results. Théoden was desperate, such as Dis, at least officially. Four months after that, Théoden passed away. I take it he could not come to terms with the depths of his grief and loss. When Dis came to visit us personally, she was wearing a black dress, hiding behind a veil as their customs dictated; but when we were left alone after the official part, she smiled at me and Thorin, and said she was with a child. An heir to the Rohanese throne, which made her the queen regent until her child matures. Then she produced something out of a hidden pocket, something I did not expect to ever reappear - a mithril pendant adorned with a blueish gem - and she handed it over to me. _

_ I found it hidden between Éomer’s clothes,” she explained briefly, with a knowing smile. I looked at Thorin wide-eyed, then at Dis, and embraced her, saying thank you a thousand times over. _

_ Thorin later had it remade by master jewelers. He said it bore too many memories for both of us, and at this point I agreed with him. He gave it a new shape, the shape of our ancient rune in the shape of a B, Berkana. Adorned with dark red rubies, it symbolizes spring, birth and new beginnings. I wear it proudly ever since. _

_ When it comes to the mutiny and my kidnapping, the bribed guard of ours was found in an inn on his escape to Ered Luin. It's only that he got drunk, spending a fortune to rent a room for many days and on more than one occasion boasted for having put an end to the human woman`s rule back in Erebor. He got arrested and was escorted to the Lonely Mountain for a fair trial, along with Dagur. This time there was no mercy left for them. Thorin had them and their thirty followers and helpers executed in front of the main gate. Gallows were built there for the single purpose, and brought down again right thereafter. First I wanted to retreat and watch the ceremony from the safety and privacy of Thorin's chamber, but he persuaded me otherwise. I stood by his side on that day, clad in a new luxurious and heavy brocade dress, tilting my chin up, and trying not to flinch when the bodies fell one by one through the hole in the gallows which broke their necks. That was Thorin's justice, ostentatious, rough and punitive, and the crowds cheered and applauded. _

_ My hair has grown back. Now it's even longer than before. Thorin laughs when I mention it and says it must be something in the Ereborean water which makes it grow so fast and strong. He's right; I have turned stronger since I entered these gates, much stronger and fiercer. Thorin has taught me how to overcome my fears and face them for which I'm grateful. I keep reminding myself of it every single time I exercise with my numb fingers; they are getting better, although not as fast as I would like them to. _

_ Thorin's wounds have healed perfectly; a few spots on his skin show a slightly different shade than the rest, but it's a miracle to me considering that he actually got heavily burnt. Amarth`s magic and care is priceless and we owe him. _

_ I have heard the dwarves are long-lived. I don't know how long Thorin will stay, but it will definitely be longer than me, judging by his looks. His appearance hasn't changed a tiny bit in the last three years. I don't want to think of that though, it is not important. All that is important is what we have now, the solitary moment in time and space in which we are allowed to share, give and take, and comfort each other. _

_ Our son is growing fast. He makes us proud of him, and especially Thorin who already marvels at his wits and talents he already displays. He has given him a toy sword to play with, of course, wishing him to become as fierce a warrior as his father. I smile at that; Thorin tends to spoil him when they are alone and still tries to keep it a secret. _

_ The throne room is empty now that the official talks have ended and the foreign delegation left. Thorin is sitting on his throne in his regal attire, his head adorned with the golden crown of his ancestors, his shoulders covered with heavy fur. He looks as if carven from stone, ripped from the mountain flesh, perfectly fitting this scene. His eyes wander to me, standing by a large column along with our son, and he calls: _

_ “Frerin!” _

_ I bid the child to run to his father, and he jumps into the king's arms and they embrace. Thorin beckons for me to join them, and I take a step towards them, my heart overflowing with silent joy. _

_ Thorin looks at me, there is a warm sparkle in his eye, and he smiles. _

_ I smile back at him. _

_ I`m in love with life. I`m in love with Thorin. _

  
  
  


THE END

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> I leave the question of their marriage open on purpose. I don`t see Thorin actually getting ever married (he`s not the type) but he comes from a traditional background so there is a chance. Kate would not really be willing to bind in this way, at least not so soon after all the events. There also arises the question of their son being accepted by the dwarves as the future king - he is half-breed after all. I leave all this to the readers` imagination, feel free to fill in the gaps as you wish. The purpose of this story was to explore the power balance between a man and a woman and this mission has been accomplished to my satisfaction.
> 
> I want to thank you all for your continuous support and comments which made my day on numerous occasions and helped me look at the story from a different perspective. I never would have thought my sick imagination could gain such attention! :) I cannot deny some of your comments have influenced me to a certain extent. Originally this story was intended to end in total darkness and in the manner and atmosphere in which most of it was written; but as it progressed I grew interested in exploring the possibilities of both main characters and see how far I could take them and bring them together without sounding too happy-clappy and full of cliche. So here we are at the end!
> 
> I`m definitely planning to keep writing, although I can`t promise writing more The Hobbit/LOTR fanfiction as I don`t want to repeat myself. But who knows. If you know of an interesting plot which could fit my writing style, let me know :)
> 
> In the meantime, take care and I wish you a lot of good and satisfying pieces of fanfiction.
> 
> Cheers!


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